


Shard Weavers

by Angel Lockhart (SailorShadow), Elidibus (dreamingHierophant), Shardweavers



Series: Shard Weavers [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Developing Relationship, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Oracle of Light, Post-Canon, Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Post-Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Reincarnation, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 84,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorShadow/pseuds/Angel%20Lockhart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingHierophant/pseuds/Elidibus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shardweavers/pseuds/Shardweavers
Summary: It's been weeks since the final battle, guilt still eats at one of the Warriors of Light for ending his life. Trying to put that to the side, the Warriors of Light find themselves being called back to the First to help. What awaits them in their return to the First? Or rather, who? The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.(Chapters are being reworked. This is chapter has now been updated, 08/05/2020)
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)/Original Character(s)
Series: Shard Weavers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591660
Kudos: 13





	1. The Light of a New Dawn

The Primordial Light within the Champions of Eorzea threatened to overtake them; in those final moments, a great darkness spread. With all their might; and the aid of the Crystals of Light that once belonged to the heroes of this shard; that Light was released to hold back the ancient sorcerer before them. Such strength... such despair. The Light felt as if it would shatter them from its intensity, when a familiar voice called forth; the Warrior, Ardbert, stood before them; at _her_ side.

"Do you think you can do it?" A simple nod was all that was needed. An axe of Light suddenly hurled forth, and fractured the core of the foe before them. Soon after, a burst of frozen Light weakened his core further; a Light-infused rock hurled forward to push the axe of Light further forward. Immediately after, came a sword of Light, which pushed it even further; then a Light arrow to drive it further still. As the Warriors of the Source joined their strength together, along with the Warriors of the First, the Light that opposed the Darkness swiftly became blinding. It immediately forced them to shield their eyes, then, before they knew it, they were back in the recreation of Amaurot; on the flat roof of a tall tower. They glanced about, to find the Ascian standing before them, holding a hand over his now pierced core. It shone and glimmered as the aether began to dissipate, and he began to fade away.

"Remember," his words echoed into their souls, "Remember that we once lived..." A genuine smile formed on his lips. He was finally granted the sweet embrace of death that he so wanted to welcome. Tears formed of their own accord on the face of the one that had thrown the axe of Light. The one that had rejoined with Ardbert. Her dark hair with touches of teal moved gently in the breeze, as she watched the Ascian started to disappear. He looked at her with sad eyes before he faded away.

* * *  
Her eyes opened with a start. Slowly, she placed a hand to her face, and found it wet from tears. How many weeks had it been since that fight, yet she still felt this emptiness and regret? Daylight peeked through the window via the slightly drawn curtain. A dark-haired Miqo'te made a face as her ears flicked in response to the morning light. Still on her back, under the covers, she then rolled over, away from the window on her bed. After opening her eyes slowly, she found herself staring at the wall where a single poster hung; a promotional poster for the Songbirds. They were a performance group known throughout Eorzea for their great songs and dance, and as luck would have it, they would be performing in Ul'dah again soon. She thought that perhaps she could convince some of the other free company members to join her in watching their performance then. A frown formed on her face after a moment, she realized that would be unlikely; she knew they would not have time to see it. Important matters now called them back to the First Shard.

The female Miqo'te pushed back the blankets as she sat up, then stretched with her arms up above her. She let her arms fall lightly to her sides, then got up to make her way to the dresser so she could get dressed for the day. Her hair was frizzy from the night's rest, so; once she had put on her normal attire; she grabbed a comb, then ran it through her black and teal tipped hair until she felt it looked presentable once more. She gave herself one last look over in the mirror. Her fair-skinned face stared back at her. Her blue eyes danced in the reflection as she examined everything to make sure she looked okay. Typically, she kept her hair short with two braids ending in beads with feathers. Today, she would wear her favorite outfit for the journey; a black cropped top with leather jacket, a pair of dark gray shorts with multi-belts,and knee-high, lace-up boots over flower-themed thigh-high stockings. With a nod, she smiled, satisfied that she could leave looking presentable. After she grabbed her Scholar codex, she fastened it to her side; Shoto was now ready to go. The Miqo'te headed out of her room to make her way down the hall to the main free company area, wondering aloud mostly to herself.

"I wonder if anyone else is up and about at this hour?" Shoto rounded the corner, then noticed one of the other free company members of the Crystal Wardens already awake. In fact, Yuki had already been up for quite some time. The lean Viera had her elbows on the table as she sat and sipped her cup of coffee. To her side, an emerald carbuncle bobbed its head as its tails swiveled behind it. She wasn’t overly tall for a Viera, rather, she was on the shorter side. The woman's stature was made up for in her temperament. Her scowl struck fear into her foe; with the glare that seemed to be ever present on her face. 

Her outfit was calmer than her temper. It was a nice, flowy robe in a white fabric, that had black trim and a design of gold markings. The robe had gold armoring at the shoulders to make it sturdy and practical, but not uncomfortable. At the bottom of her robes, the black, knee-length skirt peeked out. She wore open-toed sandals on her feet, which had long, leather straps that wrapped around some heavy, black fabric that covered her shins and calves; the straps continued up to wrap around her thighs. Her hands were covered in a pair of fingerless gloves, one of which rested around her coffee cup. The gloves extended into armbands that went to her elbows, each had matching gold armor to her shoulder plates. Her long white hair draped, which framed her face, and ended in soft, light grey curls. This was offset by the black tips of her long, vertical ears.

Waking up early was usually her best chance for some solitude since she was never sure how soon the others would be up. She motioned to Shoto as the other Miqo'te headed down the stairs. She had a hard time dealing with most of the free company’s members, save for Shoto and Sumire, the latter of whom was not yet present. Yuki wondered when the male Miqo’te would be getting up, as she knew they would be leaving soon.

"Good morning, Shoto. I am assuming you are ready to head out soon." The carbuncle flicked its tails noticing the Miqo’te entering the area. Yuki took another sip of the coffee before her, then sat her cup back down, and pushed some of the strands of white hair back out of her face with her other hand. Shoto smiled seeing her fellow free company member up already. She always found delight in the company of others.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. The plus side of being up early means I can get some breakfast going to try to get the others moving," the Miqo'te chuckled to herself. She moved towards the kitchen that was to the side of the free company's main area, turned the oven on to heat up, then glanced back to Yuki, "Would you like a fresh cup of coffee or tea as I start breakfast? I'm thinking dodo eggs and bacon bread this morning. Nothing too fancy." Shoto grabbed an apron from the shelf. She patted it out as she tied it around her waist, put a kettle of water on to boil, then began to gather up supplies as she waited for Yuki's reply and the oven. The Viera nodded to herself, then called out, loud enough for Shoto to hear her.

"I suppose. I'm fine with anything that could be considered edib--," Yuki jumped slightly, as her response was cut off by the sound of sudden footfalls coming down the stairs.

“I heard a mention of breakfast?!” The excited voice came from a small, violet-haired, male Miqo’te who had bounded down the stairs; two at a time. His short, slightly shaggy violet hair had light purple tips, the same color as the tip of his long, thin tail. His dark gray shirt was half unbuttoned, the violet vest was buttoned completely over his stomach. A brown belt sat loosely around his waist, with a gold rectangle attached to one side; a small canteen for water. His pants were a durable, black canvas-like material that sat loosely over his legs; also over the black, leather shoes on his feet. His hands were wrapped with a violet cloth that gave him extra grip on the rather large, metal lance he had strapped to his back. A lance that he removed, then leaned against the wall before he joined Yuki at the table. The oven's timer went off, which let Shoto know the oven was ready to bake. The white-haired Viera breathed out, then brought her attention back to the table in front of her instead. Her cup was empty, so she twirled it in her fingers. 

In the kitchen, Shoto had used her supplies to quickly put together the bacon bread and put it into the oven. She then cracked a few eggs into a bowl, whisked them about, and put them into a pan to cook. While they did that, she peeked her head around the corner eyeing Sumire that had come down for breakfast.  
  
"Ah! I thought I heard another voice. There should be plenty for the three of us." Shoto grinned at both of them.

Sumire gave her a grin in response. Yuki continued to sit quietly, as she looked back to her empty cup. The kettle started a low whistle, as if on cue. Shoto moved back into the kitchen, then removed it carefully to a tray along with cups. She put a large tea bag in the kettle and walked out of the kitchen. The female Seeker put the tray on the table in front of the Veena and the male Seeker.

"Breakfast will be ready soon," Shoto said, as she put the tea set on the table before Yuki and Sumire. The eggs were almost done cooking by this point, so she hurried back to the kitchen. With a ding from the oven timer, the bacon bread was finished. She carefully removed it from the oven, then sat it on top to cool while she finished with the eggs. Once everything was done, Shoto reappeared before the two with the bacon bread in a nice basket. She set a plate of eggs for each of them, then the dark haired Miqo'te took a seat at the table joining the Viera and other Miqo’te.

"It all smells delicious, Shoto, thanks!" Sumire perked his ears up, then took some of the bacon bread to go with his eggs. He also took a cup of tea for himself with a bit of cream. No sooner did he have his share then he'd started eating a bit hurriedly.

"What are the plans for today?" Yuki asked as she took some bread for herself. "You mentioned something about the First last night," she took a cup of tea for herself as she continued her question, "Are we meeting up with Angel and Ice before we go?"

"I figured they will probably be meeting up with us on the First. I know G'raha-," Shoto stopped herself, "I mean, the Crystal Exarch, wanted to speak with all of us." Eos and Selene then appeared, and snagged part of her bacon bread from her plate. Shoto chuckled softly, "There is plenty. Don't fight, you two." The fairies twirled in the air; it was like watching them dance. They took a place nearby on the windowsill, as they shared the piece of bread they took.

Yuki shook her head at the bickering fairies then took another bite of food. It was never a dull moment around here, that's for sure. Her carbuncle nosed up closer, as it very clearly eyed the food on the table. After a moment of staring, Yuki handed the blue creature a small piece of her bread. It happily took its reward, then rested beside her again. 

Sumire seemed focused on his own food for the moment, he'd eaten most of his bread along with all of his eggs, then worked on slowly enjoying his tea. Yuki brought her hands around her tea cup, warming them. She didn’t look up but stared into the ripples of the liquid as she spoke, “Speaking of the First…” she paused trying to find her words, biting at her bottom lip, “Are you going to be okay, Shoto?”  
  
The female Seeker stopped eating, a bit lost in words. “I…I will be alright.” 

"We're just worried," Sumire lowered his teacup as he looked from Yuki to Shoto. The Miqo'te's dual-colored eyes focused on Shoto; his left, pale green one, and his right, blank white one, the one where his scar sat. He then flicked his ears, as he continued with a concerned tone, "You were really upset, even after we got back here. I don't think you've talked to anyone, have you?" 

Shoto gave a soft smile. She truly had caring friends. After all, they were both there along with Angel and Ice during the final battle with Emet-Selch. She pushed a few strands of her teal tipped hair from her face, “Not really. Honestly, I’m not even completely sure why I felt the way I did.”

"Shoto," Yuki gripped her cup, “you were crying over our enemy.”  
  
“I know," Shoto mumbled a bit, "I guess it was hard since he had kind of gotten close to the group. I just wish,” the female Seeker trailed off a little. Sumire then gave an understanding nod.

“You wish that it could have gone differently?”

Shoto nodded in response. “The feeling I got in that final moment before he faded. It was strong coming from him, like something I knew but had forgotten.” 

The Viera tilted her head a bit; brought a hand to her chin in thought, “Perhaps, it has something to do with the Warriors of Darkness combining with us in the end?”

"Something... forgotten," the Dragoon bit his lip. He looked at the little bit of bacon bread on his plate. He'd seen the soul of Renda-Rae in that fight. That was all he'd told anyone, but her question returned to him at Yuki's question.

' _If you had the strength to prevent another tragedy... could you do it...?_ '

He'd remembered his youth, the other orphans that had died. How he could only barely save the youngest of them from the dragons in Stone Vigil. ' _Yes_ ,' he'd replied, _'If I could stop something like that from happening again, I would absolutely do it this time_.' He hadn't spoken since he mumbled, but the expression on his face was deeply thoughtful; accentuated by the grip on his nearly-empty teacup.

Yuki shrugged it off, “Something we could probably ask the Crystal Exarch about. Speaking of, it is about time to be heading that way.” Her voice drew Sumire's attention back to the present. He nodded in agreement, then hurriedly finished the little bit of bread, then washed that down with the little bit of tea left in his cup.

Once everyone had finished eating, Shoto picked up their dishes, then took them to the sink. Yuki and Sumire hurried back to their rooms to grab their travel bags. Shoto thought over what all she had packed in her own bag as she cleaned up; mostly healing items along with a change of clothes and provisions. Eos and Selene both flew down from the window and sat on Shoto's bag to wait. She came back out from the kitchen as the Viera and the other Miqo'te returned with their bags. Sumire picked up his lance from its resting place against the wall, then placed it on his back over the strap of his bag. Yuki made sure her tome was firmly attached to her hip, then adjusted her bag.

"Well that takes care of everything on my end." The Miqo'te picked up her bag, and threw it over her shoulder. The fairies fluttered around her, then disappeared as she continued, "I guess we can start heading to the portal, then to the First." She smiled at Yuki and Sumire, who both nodded in response, then they all headed out the door. Little did the group know what would await them on the First.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other chapters will be back up soon! Enjoy! If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/CharacterBios


	2. Check-In at the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been weeks since the final battle, guilt still eats at one of the Warriors of Light for ending his life. Trying to put that to the side, the Warriors of Light find themselves being called back to the First to help. What awaits them in their return to the First? Or rather, who? The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

A medium-sized house in a quiet corner of Shirogane had earned the nickname of "The Library". On the outside, it looked like a fairly normal home, but on the inside, tomes upon tomes were carefully arranged on tall shelves throughout the house. The kitchen was located in the basement, as there was an access door to the nearby beach; the basement was therefore set up to be a place to eat, relax, read, and share stories. It was currently empty, save for a small, black and white Hayate asleep on a carbuncle rug. The main floor was where the most shelves were, along with a reception desk; by the door that led to the yard; for check ins and outs of books and materials. Upstairs was the main living space. There were more shelves that worked to divide the large space up into areas. At the top of the stairs, there were display shelves with stuffed creations lovingly set up to greet anyone who came up; a few were even clearly clockwork mammets. Off to the right of the stairs was a corner of bookshelves with two big windows, a blue couch, two blue chairs, a coffee table, and a side table. There was a large, fat, calico cat sleeping flatly on one of the chairs.

Off to the left was a small table, two chairs, and one of a few magicked candlesticks in the middle of the table, for low lighting. Just past the table was a small, personal shrine in the corner; in which a small fox kit was sleeping. In the remaining corner was nothing but windows, and stairs that led up to a loft, where a large, double bed was; on which there was a sleeping, white, tiger-striped cat. Beneath the loft was a wooden tree shelf stand with more stuffed creatures displayed on it, next to which was a pile of hand-made cushions that looked well-used. Piles of books were in front of the bookshelf that separated this corner from the rest of the floor, almost every other one had a bookmark of some kind sticking out of it. One small pile looked to have been knocked over. On two of the tree shelves looked to be two small cats, curled up behind the stuffed toys. One was a black cat, the other a calico. In a small nook, under the loft was the bathroom. A blue, carbuncle tub sat against the wall, a rack of bottles were on top of an armoire chest beside it. Two mannequins with well-worn armor stood on either side of it; one displayed old healer robes, while the other displayed old tank armor. A small gaelikitten was curled up on the head of the healer mannequin, their green wings looked like a blanket around them. The couple that lived in this Library would entrust it to caretakers while they were gone on missions and adventures, as was the plan for today.

This morning, a blonde-haired Miqo'te lay with his feet up on the back of the other couch upstairs. He wore no shirt, but had on a pair of form-fitting leather pants, and heavy boots that went up to mid-calf; they were loosely laced up, and he was careful to make sure they completely hung over the back of the couch. A large axe rested near the railing overlooking the first floor, a silver dragon engraved on the blade. The Keeper of the Moon was a Warrior by trade, known by the name of "Ice". The Miqo'te had been there through several battles as one of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and most recently, was deeply involved in the events that happened on the First Shard; Norvrandt. He stared up at the ceiling, his green eyes looked focused on a wooden beam there, lost in thought.

"Knowing him, he probably got up early to go fishing," Ice commented, then looked to the decorative 'lucky moogle' statue on the table behind him as if it would reply. The Miqo'te then stretched lazily, now taking up the entire length of the couch as he waited for his husband to get back. He knew Angel would probably be back rather soon, since they were to meet up with Shoto and the others today. They would be heading back to the First Shard, to deal with important business.

* * *   
Angel wasn't very far away. Beneath the house was a small cavern with a natural hot spring. It was open to the ocean, but protected from weather by the overhanging rock the house sat on above. It also happened to be one of his favorite places to fish; heat of the hot spring behind him, and the scent of the ocean on the breeze that came in from the front. The black-haired Miqo'te sat on the rock ledge, his feet dangled just over the surface of the ocean. His blue-tipped ears flicked, as he listened for the sound of a bite. His emerald eyes flicked down to the bucket, half full of Ruby Shrimp, on a small rock shelf near his right leg. His blue-tipped tail flicked lightly behind him, resting in the heated water of the hot spring. He didn't have on a shirt, as it made him feel too warm when fishing here, but around his bicep was a soft light on a black strap; the light was bright enough to let him see, but dim enough not to give him away to the fish. His pants stopped just below the knee, and were comfortably loose, crafted with thicker cloth, so he could do exactly what he was doing now, and sit on rough surfaces without worry. His boots only went up to the ankle, and were quite warm, as well as waterproof, while his gloves were also a thicker material, and fingerless for comfort. Everything was dyed a sky blue, which matched the handle of his fishing rod. He felt the tug before he heard the sound of his line, and quickly moved to reel in his catch. He flicked his tail straight up as he saw that he was able to add another shrimp to the bucket.

"Ah, I shouldn't stay out too long if we're actually going to eat first." He looked to the bucket, thoughtfully, then nodded, "I think I have enough towards travel food," he commented to himself. He readied his line with different bait, for one last cast, then let go to wait for a bite. A slightly stronger ocean breeze blew through, and rustled his blue-tipped black hair. The light blue feathers he had braided into two pieces of it tickled the right side of his neck as they moved in the wind. He shivered a little, then returned to his thoughts.

He worried for Shoto, who had taken the outcome the hardest. He hadn't asked her about it yet, but then, they had all been busy readjusting to things back on the Source. Yesterday, there was a summons through Feo Ul; there had been some progress they should come to discuss.

The tip of his tail flicked in the hot water of the spring as he silently waited for a bite. He looked around, taking in the ocean lit by the morning sun. By nature, he wasn't really a morning person, but it was the only free time he could get for quick lessons in Doman cuisine from the older woman at the Markets. He traded his catches to her in exchange for cooking lessons, and kept some of the results to bring home. He felt like his knowledge had expanded quite a bit recently, so his excitement had fed into his early rising. His gaze stopped on a rock just past the shoreline. He spied a small, fluffy, orange cat perched atop one of the flat pieces near the top. 

It was difficult to get to as it was... there's no way an animal could get out there safely if they couldn't fly. Though, that wasn't why he was staring at the cat.

"Tora...?" Angel whispered, confused. His pole bent from a sudden, large bite. His attention snapped back to his pole he'd nearly lost hold of. The Keeper glanced back to where the cat had been as he worked to reel in his catch... but found nothing there; he frowned.

* * *   
Angel soon arrived home with two small boxes that were tied together with twine, and a package set on top; clearly bundled for travel. He called out after he closed the front door behind him.   
  
"Ice~? I'm sorry I took longer than I meant to. I got... distracted," he trailed off slightly as he sat the items on the stairs. The mage put his fishing supplies in the small closet under the stairs, behind the reception desk. The Hayate bounded up from the basement, awakened by Angel's voice. She hopped around happily, then sat and wagged her tail. Angel jumped as he exited from the closet.

"Pepper, don't do that," he sighed, then smiled a little, "Bark or something, you're too quiet!" The Keeper picked up the boxes and package then started up the stairs, Pepper hopped up excitedly beside him. "I have breakfast!" At the words of the approaching Miqo'te, every feline upstairs leapt from their places to greet him at the top. 

Ice had heard Angel come in; he remained on the couch upstairs even as the cats bolted to greet him. ' _ I guess it's time to get moving then _ ,' Ice thought as he sat up and stretched a bit. The mention of breakfast made his stomach rumble. As Angel approached the top of the stairs, he stood to join the other cats in greeting him. The blonde catboy's ears wiggled in joy, "So, how'd the fishing go? I know you always enjoy your time out." He grinned as he moved over, then kissed his husband on the cheek, and whispered, " _ Love the outfit _ ."

Angel instantly blushed, then quickly handed Ice his breakfast bentou, "O-Of course you do," he pouted playfully, "It shows off more than a rrrobe does," he blinked, then blushed brighter at his own purr. The two small boxes were bentou breakfasts from the markets, which used some of the large Glass Tuna he had caught with his last cast, but the package on top was onigiri for the group's travels, made with some of the Ruby Shrimp for filling. He sat the packed onigiri on the table to make sure he wouldn't forget it when they left, then sat on the couch to eat breakfast. The mage was instantly joined by all the animals in the house, even the fox kit that had stayed asleep.

Ice snickered at Angel's response, especially his embarrassed purr, then looked out the window as he held his bentou. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and he could hear the sound of the waves splashing against the rocks. It was still pretty early... Ice's ears flicked again, thoughtfully.

"Mm, are we expecting any of the others here before heading to the First?" Ice looked back to his husband, then blinked. Angel was surrounded by begging animals, which each received a bite of the tuna from Angel's breakfast, then happily headed off.

The dark-haired Keeper blinked before he shook his head, with a quiet sound that indicated 'no'. He still had his bentou on his lap; he hadn't started to eat yet, he'd only given half a fish away to the animals as a treat. So far as he knew, they weren't expecting anyone to meet them here; they were going to meet up in the Ocular, if they didn't run into one another in Mor Dhona first.

After they were essentially alone once more, Ice looked over his husband's attire; a wide, playful grin crossed his face.

"Good." Ice took a few steps over to sit beside Angel on the couch, "That means we can enjoy a quiet breakfast together then."

"I-I'd like that," Angel smiled and shifted a bit to face Ice more. He was immediately surprised by a playful kiss. His ears perked, and he felt his tail puff a little. Ice chuckled, as he'd only meant to kiss his cheek, but the bright blush on his husband's cheeks was very much worth it. The blonde opened the bentou his husband had prepared for him.

"I guess we can discuss more details over breakfast." Ice looked down to his bentou. He could tell Angel was getting much better at preparing Doman cuisine; it looked almost perfect. Comparatively, though, Angel's bentou seemed less perfect; even with half a fish missing, it was clear that he'd given Ice the one he'd done better with. "I think we have everything ready for the trip," Ice moved to start eating the fish as Angel did, "Did Shoto mention what the Crystal Exarch needed? What was the objective this time?"

Angel fidgeted a little in response, and put a piece of fish in his mouth, thoughtfully, but was far too distracted by trying to think of anything important that was missed during packing. He took a few more bites of rice, then lowered his chopsticks, and put his fingers to his chin in thought; a common pose for the mage.

"Mm... We're not exactly sure what G'rrraha," he stopped, blushed a little, then corrected himself, "Th-That is, I'm not surrre what the  _ Exarch _ wants us to help with rrright now, but... there was mention of progress in returning the others to the Source." 

Ice could not help but smile as he listened to his husband speak. Angel had a habit of stuttering a purr into his words when he was nervous, and he found it cute to listen to; even if it was something Angel was embarrassed about doing.

"It did feel like therrre was... something else, but they gave no hints of what." Angel fidgeted, then went back to his food, as if he could feel his husband's gaze on him. Ice smiled, then gestured, as he continued with his thoughts.

"I figure he probably needs us to help assist with restoration. A lot of damage has been done to the First Shard, and they probably need some help getting things back on track to move forward," he trailed off just slightly as he finished his sentence, a small frown formed on his face. He thought back on their battles there. They had taken their toll on the group as well as the Shard itself.

At his husband's silence, Angel looked over. He could tell Ice was thinking about something. The mention of the First did make Angel think about their last battle once more; the one with Hades. He remembered just how drained Shoto had looked after their final battle; she even had tears streaming down her face. When they had questioned her about it, she had just remained silent, staring off where Emet-Selch had been, while the others celebrated victory.

Ice broke the thoughtful silence after a moment, "How is Shoto holding up? She didn't seem well after the battle." Angel blinked in response, as his husband's voice shook him from his thoughts. He returned his focus to breakfast and Ice. He smiled softly, as he had seen the female Miqo'te just yesterday, and she seemed to be doing well, so he felt confident enough to answer that.

"I think she's doing much better. It was probably just the strain from the battle. We were all pushed to... if not  _ past _ our limits... after all," Angel trailed a little, but flicked his ears and went back to his breakfast; he ignored his rice in favor of finishing his fish first.

"That is a relief to hear," Ice smiled hearing that their friend was doing better, "I guess we should head to the ferry soon." His ears flicked a bit, happily, as he finished his own breakfast first. "Ah~, are we supposed to meet them in Mor Dhona?" He paused, then tilted his head as he tried to remember the plans, "Hm... or was it to meet at Syrcus Trench so we could port over together?"   
  
"We're going to meet in the Ocular," Angel replied, as he hurriedly finished the rice he had left, "if we don't run into each other in Mor Dhona first." Ice snapped his fingers and nodded, as he now recalled that plan. The Warrior collected their empty boxes, then did a check around the house as he cleaned up, to make sure everything was in order before they left it in the care of the old Elezen caretaker; Laffont; while they were gone.

Angel hurried off to the bathroom and took a brisk shower to wash away the sea salt. He stored his fishing gear in the armoire, then changed into his robes. When he returned to the couch, the black-haired Miqo'te now wore his mage robes; they were bright blue with silver trim and accents. The main robe fell to his ankles, and had a hood, which was currently down. A pair of bright blue slipper-style shoes were on his feet. His gloves were open, but stopped just past his knuckles, and were held in place with a small strap with a silver buckle. His silver White Mage cane was across his back, and his traveling satchel was over his shoulder. He clipped the light blue butterfly wing barrette into his hair just as Ice returned upstairs with his own bag. Angel's tail flicked back and forth happily. 

"I figure we don't want to leave the Exarch and the others waiting too long," Ice's tail swished behind him in response to Angel's. The White Mage nodded, then packed the shrimp-filled onigiri in his pack, as the Warrior moved to pick up the large axe that rested against the railing. The blonde Miqo'te placed his weapon on his back, "Okay,  _ now _ I'm ready." He turned to his husband and grinned, "To the ferry?"

Angel's ears flicked happily. He smiled in response as he grabbed onto Ice's arm, "To the ferry." With that, the two Miqo'te left the Library for the docks in Shirogane, to make the journey to Mor Dhona... to once more, return to the First.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will they find awaiting them in the First? What new assignments do they have? 
> 
> We are hoping to update on a regular schedule of Sundays each week. As Yoshi-P says: "Please look forward to it!" If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/CharacterBios


	3. The Return of Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been weeks since the final battle, guilt still eats at one of the Warriors of Light for ending his life. Trying to put that to the side, the Warriors of Light find themselves being called back to the First to help. What awaits them in their return to the First? Or rather, who? The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

A warm embrace, an ethereal swirl...the flow of elements and life was calming and peaceful. 

How long had they been here, in this state of being? 

_They...or is it ...I?_

Thoughts began to accumulate and take form. The warm flow started to slip away as he felt pulled, or rather called. Who...what was dragging him away from the safe warmth he'd grown so accustomed to? A harsh cold overtook his form...his _body?_

 _Did I have a body, until this moment...?_

His vision came to as he took in his surroundings; he had no recollection of what had happened. 

_Where did the warmth go?_

It felt like a distant memory, just out of his grasp. 

_Who am I?_

The man laid there, naked, on the cold, hard ground for a moment...then sat up, wrapping his arms around himself as he shivered from the chill of the air. His vision cleared as a small audible gasp formed from his lips taking in the sights around him. 

It was...so beautiful. Tall, towering buildings of elaborate design surrounded his shivering form; black, spiraling peaks of elaborate metalwork, like waves as much as mountaintops, raised off some of the buildings, stretching towards the sky. It looked to be some kind of a city, where he sat in the middle of a plaza. The area was quiet and devoid of people from what he could see... 

It was at that moment that a voice called out to him. It was in a language most would have forgotten, yet...somehow, he knew it.

"I see that, at long last, you awaken." 

Pain suddenly shot through his skull; memories began flooding his mind, like a gate somewhere upstream had overflowed. His thoughts raced forward along this uncontrollable river. 

Yes...yes, he remembered now. This city...his home. And all of the events that had occurred within it. Most importantly, _who he was_ . However, this made no sense to the man. His face looked puzzled as his brow furrowed. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn’t be here any more than Amaurot _...he...he had died?_

This body felt different; incomplete, rather, like something was missing. There was an emptiness, the source of which was ever so obvious, but it provided no reason as to why he did not feel whole. He felt...weak. Pain hit him again as it felt like his head would split in two, and he grabbed at each side of his skull. A silhouette of light...a figure that made his mind's eye feel conflicted. His heart raced and ached seeing this figure. 

_What is this...who is this?_

He reached out towards the memory before blacking out from the pain. A voice rang out across the plaza.

"Welcome back, Hades... Or, rather, Emet-Selch..."

* * *

Laying on the soft grass, Hades starred up into the sky. His black robes looked rather plain, but they were the same as everyone else in the city. The hood was off his head revealing the locks of short, white hair tousled against the ground. The aether danced before his eyes, moving and twirling. 

He had been here before...it was comforting. Yes, this was the place he liked to come to rest and be alone with his thoughts. This was the city park in Amaurot. Hades let out a sigh as he shut his eyes again...no. Amaurot was no more. This was not possible. 

Again, a voice called out to him... different this time than before.

"Well! You seem gloomy as ever, Hades." His eyes shot back open as Hades sat up, quickly, to look towards the voice...and there he stood, grinning...beaming like he always had. 

That smug look, just the same as ever, plastered across his face. His friend. Hythlodaeus. 

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"Hythlodaeus... but..."

"Of course, my old friend. Who else would it be?" Hythlodaeus lumbered over and went to sit beside him in the grass. "You seem to have a lot of free time all of a sudden, to be laying here." 

Hades did not respond. He simply looked down at the ground in front of him. 

Hythlodaeus placed a hand on his shoulder, "You are not alone. I am here for you, my friend." 

The two sat there for a moment in silence but he spoke again, "You know that we have _always_ been near. In fact, she has been waiting for you..." 

Hades' face changed, his look now stricken, eyes wide. He turned to look towards Hythlodaeus...but his friend was not there. He looked around frantically; _no one_ was around. The scene before him started to fade at the edges…

Oh. Oh no.

It had all been a dream after all. 

His consciousness came as he blinked with blurry eyes, looking around the room. A single tear ran down his face. 

A dream... 

Rubbing his face; Hades sat up in...he'd been in a bed. Taking a moment to fully gain stock of his situation, he realized he'd been laying there clothed; he was wearing the Garlean robes that he wore when he was Solus. It had been his typical decor he had for his time on the First as well. Out of paranoid suspicion, he ran a hand down the fur of the overcoat...it did _seem_ to be the same outfit. 

Someone had been watching over him. But who? And more importantly, where was he, really? He took a glance towards the window; he recognized the skyline in view. This was the recreated city of Amaurot for sure; _his_ recreation.

But who had brought him back, and why?

"If I may use a clichéd turn of phrase...how is it to return to the land of the living, my dear friend?" 

The voice that greeted him was familiar; mellifluous. A perfect ambassador's voice—a leader's voice. The _Heart’s_ voice. He'd heard it from the least likely source, last he checked... the lips of the crown prince of Garlemald. 

How much disdain he had felt seeing him wear that form at the time was immeasurable. Thankfully, this was not the same form that the voice wore now.

The white-robed form of Elidibus stood looking out across the skyline from the window, his head down. He didn't turn towards Hades for a long moment, but as ever, that crimson mask hid his emotions. Hades had almost not noticed the presence of the other Ascian within the room. How…? He was uncertain, seeing as he had just gazed upon that very window...and seen nothing. 

The Ascian wanted to blame his disorientation. A familiar frown upon his face formed as he realized for sure who it was that spoke to him.

"Elidibus…?”

“Just so.”

He almost wanted to smile, but...something needled him about all this. About...returning, this way. He shouldn’t be able to.

“So, then. All of... _this_ is your doing, I take it?"

His eyes narrowed, locking on the white-robed figure by the window. His legs swung to the side of the bed; his feet found purchase on the floor as his robe fluttered to follow. 

His eyes continued to watch the other Ascian as he spoke again, "I'm _sure_ you are aware, and need not the bulletin, Elidibus, but the plan failed. As Hythlodaeus would be able to elucidate..." Hades stopped his words, for the moment, before his lips formed a sneer. He continued.

"...I was distracted. These lovely environs do prove that, don’t they? So I must wonder, why bother bringing me back? The battle was lost."

"Emet-Selch, how unlike you. You should know the answer to that," Elidibus replied, his voice remaining soft, even gentle, as he turned from his gazing at the reconstructed Amaurot; as he did, though, the wistfulness left his voice. "The battle was lost, yes; but the _war_ is far from over. The great work of Rejoining remains to us. The rebirth of our God. The _righting of the star’s course._ Zodiark himself requires you to live once more, Hades, and so you do. I, the humble Emissary, could hardly stand in the way of His will."

It wasn’t an unusual sentiment from Elidibus, really, but something in the way he said it, here, now, with them the only unsundered left...it chilled Hades’ blood.

It had always been easy, before, to ignore the intensity with which Elidibus pursues their great work, the level of obsession the Emissary has. But facing it head-on...

He shook himself free of this train of thought. The white-robed Ascian had folded his arms behind his back as he studied his companion, and now his red-masked face was shadowed by the cowl of his robe.

"I am also, I must admit, rather concerned by your...distraction. Tell me, Emet-Selch, did you become so enamored by the color of _that one's_ shard that you _forgot_ what you were on Norvrandt to _do_...?" The disappointment in Elidibus' voice was almost worse than anger, and much more subtly dreadful. 

"I would expect such impetuousness from Lahabrea, perhaps, but not _you_. Fortunately, however, you were more cautious than he. There was more than enough to recover. And perhaps, as you are now, you will be less...distractible."

There was, though Hades hated to admit it, a genuine sting to his words, one which distracted him from the vague sweep of Elidibus’ words, the question they left in their wake. Dread was replaced by a quick-boiling anger.

Yes, yes, Hades had strayed from the original plan! But the Rejoining was the goal entire, the whole...what right did even the Emissary, even he who wore the white, have to sit in judgment! Or compare him to that mewling child, the Abyssal Celebrant…! 

He stood up from the bedside, not letting any emotion reach his face, simply staring coldly at Elidibus. So, what scheme did the Emissary have set in motion now, after _he_ had remained in the shadows all this time? And what role did he intend for Hades to play? No, he barely needed to ask or even think on that. The answer was obvious...as ever, he needed Hades to do the _dirty work_. Irritation flooded the one called Emet-Selch; he straightened his posture with a sniff, before he flicked his hand out in a dismissive gesture.

"I don't have to take this...this patronizing nonsense. You _know_ that I did more than you and Lahabrea _combined_ in trying to see the plan to fruition. It did not _work_ , o Emissary, o Heart of the God. Norvrandt is a lost cause. I will be happy to regroup with you later on our next steps, but for now? Why, I believe I will take some of the rest you have _long_ promised me." 

His lips curled smugly. _That_ felt satisfying. With a snap of his fingers, he called forth the Ways Between, the portals the Ascians used to pass through the Void; he would pass through any pool of aetheric darkness to end this conversation and Elidibus' unearned superiority. Certainly, he meant what he’d said, he would speak to his fellow Paragon later. When he _felt_ like it. He needed time alone with his thoughts, to... to _process_ everything. 

Several moments passed, and...nothing.  
  
It was just the silence between Elidibus and Hades, as they stood, together, in the room. Nothing had happened...nothing was summoned.

Losing a bit of his composure, Hades once again tried to summon the portal...once again, nothing happened. He felt the color drain from his face; something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. 

Elidibus' words echoed suddenly in his head, and he caught the last part this time... _as he was now?!_ What...what could he mean…?! Had he…

Of course there had been a price to pay to bring him back. Even the Heart of Zodiark was no miracle worker.

A colder and colder knot formed in his gut. The emptiness Hades had felt when he first awoke was more obvious now; he was sure that some vital part of him was missing. His connection to the aether itself was weak, useless…! He looked to the floor in shock, fighting back the urge to shake. What...what was _happening_ …?! 

Gone was the placid, bored look on his face—instead, Hades’ face was a mask of fury and terror as he gazed at his fellow Ascian, spitting his words, sputtering. " _What did you_ _do to me_...?!?" 

Elidibus sighed, and shook his head before he responded.

"As I've been trying to say, Hades, it is not _I_ that did this. This was _Zodiark's_ will, and I am, as ever, His instrument." He paused and tapped his chin with a finger.

"Perhaps I should apologize. You have, indeed, done great works; that is why to see you laid low was untenable, and _at whose hands_ , so very, very frustrating. If you truly hoped to return that lost sheep to our fold, I'm afraid you gambled and lost." 

Hades knew to whom it was that the man referred, and forced his expression not to twist with this knowledge, focused on his anger. 

She, the one that had caused his soul turmoil on their journey. The Warrior most infused with that accursed Mother's blessing. The one he remembered when he looked at her for even a moment, in ways he had never wanted, never thought he could want again...no! No! Focus on the here and now!

The white-robed Ascian was avoiding the point, that much was obvious. Elidibus had never been easy to read, but his airy calm now made everything worse. 

"Now, despite your being slain, and your connection to your form strong enough, that it made recovering most of your shards quite possible, with my blessing from the God to bring the necessary resurrection. But, alas, your connection to the Source...this was not to be recovered."

As soon as it was said, Hades knew it to be true.

Had it not been Elidibus after all, but...When _she_ had struck that final blow…?

_Remember us. Remember that we once lived._

His connection to the Source was gone. _That_ was the emptiness that he felt...that was the missing piece. The fire in his eyes went out as quickly as it had been kindled, and Hades slumped where he stood in defeat. 

Elidibus looked genuinely sympathetic as he stepped closer. "Don't despair, Hades. Such a wound, grievous though it is, need not be...permanent." .

..and then his lips quirked. 

"There are...other connections to the Source, after all."

Other connections to the Source. 

Other connections. 

Was he saying…? Could he mean…?

To tear the connection from their souls? From _her_ soul?

No. No. Hades could not, would not imagine it. He made his mind empty, forced away the thought of it. 

And yet.

And yet, Elidibus wasn't _wrong,_ was he…?   
  
_Damn him. It's just as it sounded, isn't it? Yet...I cannot bear this burden, this awful emptiness. I must be whole again, somehow._

Outwardly, Hades let out a long-suffering, extended sigh; this was beyond frustrating, it was awful, yet he needed to mask it behind his usual mannerisms; he was not going to let Elidibus get any more joy out of this situation than he already had. 

"Well. As much as I am reluctant to _say_ it... you are right. But you _must_ know what you are insinuating, such a task will not be easy. It shall be very near impossible." Hades motioned with his arms to the area in general, "Especially seeing as how I have _no means_ to leave this place on my own accord. So... what do you propose I _do_?"

Elidibus' smile was almost kindly. Almost. 

But Hades knew the man who was the Emissary of the Convocation, the man who wore the white and spoke with the voice of Zodiark, had forsworn kindness in the earliest days after Amaurot's fall.

"You are correct; you cannot traverse the Ways Between, but fear not. Otherwise, your power as a sorcerer is whole and mighty. You should easily be able to bring any of the sad things Norvrandt calls a nation to their knees in days. And should any of these vaunted new... Warriors of Darkness, isn’t it, now? Or their Scion friends, should they rise to oppose you…?" He gestured widely and then clenched his fist, and spoke too-familiar words.

"Go forth. _Conquer._ Rip their unearned gifts from their flesh and return to the Tempest stained in blood and righteousness, and you shall be whole again, a Paragon once more."

 _Gifts...? How many does he mean me to—_

Hades stopped his thoughts. Ah, of course, he had forgotten _that_ little variable. 

The closer a connection his new link had to the Source...the easier it would be to graft on. 

To restore him fully. 

Elidibus continued, "I am certain you have no wish to tarry here, and you have much work to begin. Therefore, rejoice, Hades, my Emet-Selch. I shall trade roles with you, for a time. I shall see to it this beautiful recreation of our home is safe beneath these waves...while you do what you do best."

Hades' eyes went wide as he processed Elidibus' words.

"You cannot possibl—" 

Before Hades could finish his objection, it was done. The fingers of that alabaster-clawed hand snapped sharply, and a pool of shadows coalesced beneath the other hand and the founder of Garlemald. 

They pulled him in, in, down against his will. The last thing he saw was Elidibus turning back to the window. 

Hades managed one final roar of fury. 

**_"ELIDIBUS!!!"_ **

Then he was gone.

The Way Between opened with a rush back into the world, dropping Emet-Selch straight back into a tree. His back smacked harshly against the bark, winding him, knocking the air from his lungs.

_DAMN IT ALL. Elidibus, you couldn't have been even a little gentler?!_

He was sure it was the Emissary's intent to land him this way, rob him of even his last scraps of dignity. He coughed sharply, trying to clear his airways. Bringing a hand to his chest... _immense_ pain radiated through his core, in about the same spot he originally been pierced. The Ascian leaned his head back against the tree behind him. Well. _That_ was unpleasant.

Several more moments passed, and Emet-Selch continued to lend against the tree unmoving. Staring up into the sky through the light lavender tree leaves; the Ascian realized he had to be in...Lakeland. He let out a long sigh; at least he might orient himself, as this meant he was _definitely_ still on the First Shard. 

He reached out to the aether, gathered his magicks; he needed a more convenient way to travel, wounded as he was at the moment. His form gave way to his will, and he shrank down, quickly, quickly, until... 

Where Emet-Selch had sat before was a blue-greyish bird with a condescending look about him. A shoebill.

The shoebill flapped his wings a few times, testing it out, and then loftily, if a bit limpingly, took flight. Guided by the wind, he headed above the trees, out of the canopy, and riding the currents, he headed towards the Crystarium. To seek the only one he knew could help…

That was, if they _would_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are hoping to update on a regular schedule of Sundays each week. As Yoshi-P says: "Please look forward to it!" If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios or follow the story with images here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/


	4. Pray Return to the First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warriors of Light find themselves being called back to the First to help. What awaits them in their return to the First? Or rather, who? The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

"I implore you: allow me to join you beyond the rift!"

"G'raha," came the response; hesitant and caring, "It's very dangerous. We can't promise you'll be safe. Why would you risk such a journey with us?"

"I have something I wish to find. An answer," he trailed off as he reached up to his right eye; its ruby color perfectly matched his hair. "Truthfully... the more I learn of the Crystal Tower, the less I am myself. I feel consumed with remembering... something. Something ancient, but ever so important. A-And I know... somehow... my answers will be in there; with Unei and Doga."

"We'll certainly rescue them, along with Nero."

"I know you will," the Sharlayan Miqo'te smiled, then flicked his tail. "I've only known you all a short time, but you've inspired a great change in me. I've seen it in others too," he fidgeted slightly, then crossed his arms over his chest. "I just want to finish what's been started. I must learn the truth that history hides from me. I would see this journey-- _our_ journey--through to the very end with mine own two eyes. I shan't cause you any worry in the World of Darkness."

"We'll protect you, G'raha," the response was warm, and caring, "We'll make sure you find whatever it is that you need to find, _and_ make it home with us."

He smiled at their words, then wiggled his ears and flicked his tail as he put a hand on his hip triumphantly; as confident and prideful as he was, their words always managed to stir something within him. He believed everything they said to him, and knew he could entrust them with just about anything.

**_THUD!_ **

The Crystal Exarch jumped, his ears perked straight up and his tail fluffed beneath his robes. His ruby eyes opened wide, then looked around for the source of the sudden noise.

"Ah! My lord, I'm terribly sorry," Lyna jumped, her long ears twitched slightly as she quickly saluted.

"L-Lyna, what are," the Exarch trailed off, then shook his head. He saw the pile of books that had fallen over from his desk; the Viis must have bumped them when she leaned over to check on him.

"I came to check on you, and saw you were asleep at your desk. It's nearly mid-day," she explained, but got no further. The Exarch stood up swiftly at her last words, then spoke quickly.

"Mid-day?! I slept too long, I still have preparations to make," the Miqo'te turned to grab his staff from its resting place against the wall. "Lyna, notify the Master of Suites that our Warriors of Darkness will be staying with us again," he put his staff on his back, then paused. "Where is Beq Lugg? They were reading with me when I fell asleep," his expression was slightly embarrassed, but he looked to the Viis Captain expectantly.

She had saluted at his order, then paused to think, "I didn't see them when I came in, perhaps they went to market for something?" She tilted her head slightly. He looked thoughtful at her suggestion. After a moment of silence, she spoke up once more, "My lord, is there aught else?"

"Do you think they would prefer sandwiches or pastries with tea this afternoon...?" The Exarch stared off to the side, at the few tomes still on his desk. Lyna blinked, then chuckled. He blushed slightly, then stepped around the desk, "Forgive me, Lyna, I'd like to ask you to pick up the tomes a bit. I must gather what I can for our meeting once they've arrived," he smiled at the Viis.

She nodded to his request, then smiled back, "Go, My lord, make ready for their arrival. I will pick up the books I knocked over, then relay your message to the Manager."

"Ah, thank you, Lyna," his ears perked straight up, then he turned to hurry off to the Markets. She was left alone quickly, and sighed towards the door.

"You don't hide your excitement very well," she smiled as she knelt down to pick up the books, "I've been rather happy seeing you like this, though." She placed some of the books on the desk, then reached for the last few. One was open beside the desk. It looked to be fresh ink on the page, as some of it had been smudged in the fall to the floor. The Viis recognized the Exarch's handwriting, and realized that she could read the strange script it was written in. He'd taught her how to read through his books; most of which were written in various scripts; this looked like what he had called 'Eorzean', the most common script in his books. Lyna picked up the book carefully, then began to read before she had a thought that perhaps she shouldn't.

> **  
> Observer's Log**
> 
> _The Scions of the Seventh Dawn remain trapped here on the First. Despite my best efforts, I have hit another wall. The Warriors have once more returned to the Source. Beq Lugg and I have been scouring through Allagan history and research in the Tower Library. There have been some promising discoveries._
> 
> _I would be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this just a little, despite the reason for it. It has been quite a long time since I have done this sort of research. Not since I was granted the title of Archon have I felt so involved in my work. I can recall the first days I had access to the forbidden tomes. I got lost reading as much as I could. I wonder if I feared losing access as I spent days alone in there, and had to be dragged back to my room. When I awoke, I was quite harshly scolded by Krile._
> 
> _Enough of the past. What Beq Lugg and I have come to agree upon is that my Allagan heritage may be the key to returning the Scions home safely. We believe if we can successfully infuse the white auracite vessels with my blood, it may allow the safe transference of soul and mind back to their bodies on the Source._
> 
> _I am happy we prevented the 8th Umbral Calamity that claimed the lives of the Warriors of Light, and necessitated my awakening to undo... but I would also be lying if I said I did not wish to go with them at all. Ever since I once more laid my eyes upon them, my heart has ached to pass through the portal beside them whenever they leave._
> 
> _Perhaps, when the time comes, I might infuse a 6th vessel. I worry, though, is it okay for me to feel this selfish...? It's almost as if my very soul aches to return home, in a way I have never felt before. I must think on this, for the only way to do so would be to entrust everything to_ ~~_the Warriors_~~ _my friends once again.  
>   
> _

There was an ink smudge at the bottom, perhaps from where he'd fallen asleep while writing. Lyna felt sad as she realized what this said. She flipped only a single page back to find his notes on seeking out Beq Lugg in the Grand Cosmos, and how he was "nervous, but excited to join them in their adventures again, even for a brief time". He never spoke of his own thoughts and desires, but he had been writing them down. She carefully put this book back on the desk, then saluted the empty chair.

"Perhaps it may be best if I pull back from you, my lord. This means enough to you to be selfish for even a _moment_." She smiled sadly, then turned away from the desk, "Though I would miss you terribly if you were to leave. It... is not my place... to ask you to stay."

* * *

' _Ah, Beq Lugg was right, I may have been overdoing it lately_.' It had been days since he last left the Tower, and he felt it in his back as he paused on the stairs from the Quadrivium. He composed himself, and looked over to the nearby stalls thoughtfully. It gave him a moment's rest, but he realized he still hadn't decided which sort of treat to serve with tea. He enjoyed sweets, as did his friends, but perhaps a sandwich with tea would be a nice lunch.

"My lord?"

"Ah! Yes, Bragi?" He turned to the Ronso that stood beside him. He'd been slightly startled by the sudden voice, but usually managed to keep himself fairly well-composed outside of the Tower.

Bragi gestured welcomingly, "You seemed lost in thought this afternoon. Is there aught I might assist with?" The Exarch looked a bit more thoughtful at that. The Ronso tilted his head a little.

"Actually, perhaps you could," he flicked his ears slightly, then explained, "Our Warriors of Darkness will be returning this afternoon. I was of a mind to discuss things over tea when they did, but I have been stuck on sweets or sandwiches as the proper accompaniment." He put his crystal hand to his chin; his expression gave a weight to such a trivial decision that Bragi felt unsure how to immediately respond. He did, however, come up with a suggestion, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Perhaps a basket of various baked goods might be a good compromise...?"

"A basket," the Miqo'te trailed off, then looked up at the Ronso. His gaze drifted off to the side, to Hanji-Fae's bakery stall. His expression lightened, and he gave Bragi a thankful smile. "Ah! Of course! Thank you, Bragi." He fidgeted slightly, "Perhaps it was a bit silly of me to get stuck on such a decision."

"Nonsense, my lord," the Ronso interrupted, "We, all of us, are grateful to them for the return of the night sky." He looked up to the blue crystal canopy, the clear blue sky was visible around the edges of it, but most of the city was protected from weather. "Even now, many of us worry over what we can offer them while they are here, and if it will be good enough." Bragi smiled reassuringly to the worried Exarch, "We were also extremely grateful to see you return safely with them."

A pang of guilt tightened his chest, "I was... grateful to return... with them."

"I admit, I hadn't expected a Mystel under that hood," Bragi took a breath to continue, but was interrupted by an Elven female's voice.

"Aha~! I've finally found you!"

The Exarch stiffened slightly, his ears stood up straight at the sudden voice from behind. He turned quickly, and barely suppressed a wince at the sudden movement.

"Katliss, why were you looking for me...?"

"Have you an answer for me yet, lord?"

"Pray forgive me," the Exarch smiled apologetically, "I have been quite busy lately." Katliss sighed with a half smile, then shook her head.

"The Artisans of the Mean have completed some designs for the commemoration of the night sky's return, but you haven't given us an answer." The Elf smirked, then put a hand out to the side as if holding something, "Would you prefer to be on coin," she put her other hand out to the other side, "or an automaton?"

The Exarch sighed, then frowned a little, "It would hardly be fair to take that sort of credit for such a feat. I sincerely appreciate your intentions, but I would prefer neither option." He smiled reassuringly, "Perhaps you should prepare to help the Warriors of Darkness this evening. They shall be returning anon, and I really must gather something for them to eat when they arrive."

"They're coming back so soon? Of course we'll prepare anything they should require," Katliss smiled, despite being sad at the repeated rejection from the Exarch. "That's only the third time you've said no, though. I'm certain one of the designs will change your mind, My lord." She gave a small wave, then hurried off to head back to the Crystalline Mean.

Bragi nodded after she left, "I'll spread the word through the Markets for you as well. Let them know if they need anything at all, they can browse and stock up here whenever they are able," he crossed his arms, "After all, it seems like you'll be speaking with them for a while if you're buying food for their return."

"A-Ah," the red-eyed Miqo'te nodded, then gave as reassuring a smile as he could after Katliss' fluster. He hurried off towards the Culinarian's shop, his back feeling slightly better than when he left. "My desk is not the most comfortable place for a nap... which just means I need to finish my research that much faster." He mumbled to himself, then smiled as he stopped in front of the counter. He decided on half and half, as per Bragi's suggestion, and added a box of tea he could brew back at the Tower. He had _just_ the kettle for the perfect brew, one which he often used.

* * *  
Ice was the first to arrive through the portal in the Ocular; immediately behind him was his husband, Angel. The Warrior looked around at the empty room, noting how brilliantly the crystal walls shone. He smiled, then turned to make sure his husband had made it through okay. Angel had stepped through, then immediately moved aside to clear the way. The White Mage curled his tail a bit, happy at the thought of seeing their friend G'raha again after their time away from the First. He did frown a little at the empty Ocular, then turned his ears a bit to listen for a voice or familiar sound.

"Ah, we seem to be the first to arrive, he looked around the room a little, "Do you think we're a bit _too_ early?" The tip of his tail flicked back and forth, thoughtfully, "Or did we miss them at Mor Dhona?"

Ice looked thoughtful in response, but didn't get a chance to respond, as Shoto stepped through the portal a moment later. Angel's ears perked, and he smiled at her arrival. Yuki, then Sumire, followed immediately after her; the three of them took in the surroundings of the Ocular for a moment. The female Miqo'te's eyes fell upon the two Keepers nearby. She immediately waved with so much energy that it brought her on her the tips of her toes; a moment later, she bounded over to them in excitement.

"Angel! Ice! I'm glad to see you both!" The female Seeker jumped and threw her arms around the dark-haired Keeper's shoulders. Angel's ears briefly pinned back in surprise, but he smiled and returned Shoto's hug a moment later.  
  
Ice just shook his head, "I see how it is. No love for me." He chuckled to himself as his tail wagged playfully behind him, "I'm just glad to see you are doing well."

"I am too, Shoto," Angel added. "We've been worried about you, but you seem to be feeling a bit better now."

Yuki couldn't hold back a smirk while she shook her head at the sight of their leader bounding off in such a way. "Well, it seems like she is in bright spirits at least," she said to Sumire, who was still at her side. 

The purple-haired Miqo'te grinned at the Viera in response, "What's this? You showing concern over another person's well being in front of other people?" He teased, his tail flicked slightly.

"Come now!" Yuki immediately crossed her arms defensively in a pout, "I'm not _that_ heartless. Is it so hard to believe that I would show concern for our friend?"  
  
Sumire just smiled, then patted her gently on the arm, "I jest! Mostly. C'mon, let's join the others." The two made their way over to the group as they all awaited the Exarch's arrival to the Ocular.

They would only wait another few moments before the doors to the Ocular swung open. The Exarch returned with Lyna. She carefully guided a small cart into the room with her. The red-haired Miqo'te smiled at his friends, though he said nothing just yet. Lyna stopped in the middle of the group, then made sure the cart was settled. On the top was the basket of half and half baked goods. The scent of sweets immediately drew Angel's attention to the basket. Lyna saluted, as the Exarch raised a hand.

"Thank you for the help, Lyna, I may have overdone it a little..."

"Nonsense, my lord, it is my pleasure to assist. Though... the wonderful smell has made me want to go pick up something as well after my shift," she smiled to the Warriors, then saluted them as well. "Welcome back. We've missed you all. Pray call on me should you need anything." The Viis turned to hurry out. The Exarch watched as she closed the doors behind her. He didn't turn around immediately.

"I most certainly did overdo it," he glanced back over his shoulder, "I got delayed several times in the course of the day. I sincerely apologize that I was not here to greet you all." His ears flicked, and his guard relaxed slightly. A smile crossed his face as he turned further to gesture to the cart, "I wanted to make sure there was something to eat when you arrived. I wasn't... sure what might be best, but I thought the cart could serve as a table while we spoke." He stood, then fidgeted slightly, his tail fluffed a bit more than usual... though, that was really only noticeable to him against his own leg. It wasn't that he didn't have a topic to discuss; after all, he had asked Feo Ul to contact them about returning; it was more that there were a few topics to discuss, and he was trying to sort out a good starting point.

Ice simply smiled at the Exarch in response. It felt like it hadn't been that long ago when they ventured to the Grand Cosmos to meet Beq Lugg. There had been nothing much for it but to leave the Nu Mou and the Miqo'te to research on the soul; ways of preserving and transporting it, along with their memories.

"It's quite alright," the Warrior spoke to break the thoughtful silence that had fallen over the room. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say we appreciate it." The Exarch blinked; the words helped to reset his train of thought, as well as relax him a little. He smiled back, then put a finger to his chin.

"First, I believe tea and snacks are in order. Please, take what you would like," he gestured to the cart. Yuki nodded to the suggestion, then tugged at Sumire's sleeve. The Seeker stood from his seat on the steps that he had just taken, and reluctantly followed the Viera over to the cart. 

The Exarch pulled cups from the shelf below, and handed her one at a time as she poured tea for whoever would like some. She handed the filled cups to Sumire so she didn't have to turn around. Shoto happily accepted one, along with a danish, then moved back to be beside Angel. The White Mage sniffed at the sweet smell of her treat, then flicked his ears thoughtfully. Ice reached up to pat his husband's head, then headed over to the cart to pick something for them both.

Though everyone anticipated the Exarch's words, Yuki spoke first, "Any updates on our friends' return?"

Shoto paused, then looked up from her tea cup to hear the response. She had recently checked in with Tataru and Krile, and learned their bodies were still stable; for the moment; but the link between their souls and bodies was beginning to grow notably weaker.

"Yes," the Exarch nodded, "Beq Lugg and I are presently studying the principles underpinning memory transference and, I believe, nearing the requisite level of understanding, thanks to the Tower Library. Urianger and Y'shtola have also given input and clarity when the words began to blur from staring bells too long at the same pages," he flicked an ear, then tilted his head a bit. "It will definitely require my Allagan heritage if this is to stand a chance of being successful. The result will be a crystal vessel imbued with my essence."

"That sounds complicated," Sumire frowned as he held a second cup of tea for Ice to take. The Exarch nodded in response.

"It has proven... _frustrating_ , to put it mildly. Practical trials of transference methods suited for use with the vessel," he thought for a moment, then finished his sentence, "have yet to yield... _satisfactory_ results..." He found himself forcefully handed a cup of tea from Yuki. He blinked again, then gratefully took the tea, and smiled, "Though it may take some time yet, we are well on our way to a solution," he looked down to the tea in his cup, "And I swear that I shall not rest until one is found."

* * *  
Elsewhere in the Crystarium, far from this happy scene, a weakened shoebill flapped its wings as it came to a rest atop a high railing on the outer walls, its chest heaving for breath…  
  
An all-too-familiar shoebill, whose avian form was but a mask.

Hades felt like he was growing weaker by the second, but, at least in this smaller, bestial form, he could still fly. Though it was _exhausting_ . By _Zodiark_ , he hoped he was right, that they weren't already gone somehow, returned to the Source and lost to him forever. No, no, they were a sentimental lot, they _must_ still be hanging around... 

He mustered all the strength left in his wings for a short upward flight, and this time came to rest much closer to the Crystal Tower itself... good, a perfect vantage point, one which let him see most of the Crystarium without much effort. 

A pity that, unless his vision were failing him (how weak would he become, severed from his wholeness as he was?!), he could spy neither hide nor hair of them in the city's wide expanse. Cursing mentally, the bird then turned his attention towards the Tower itself, towards some method of egress... squinting, he spied one of many small air shafts higher up on the tower. And here was one he could easily get through…! Perfect.

The bird's eyes narrowed as he opened his wings once more, rising into the air, then once he was in position, angled himself for a slow dive, and drifted almost indolently downward towards and into the air shaft, emerging inside the tower proper, into the presence of the blue and gold spiral staircase that snaked its way through the entire tower. 

It felt like forever since he had visited here, but still, the layout was familiar enough. He spotted another ventilation shaft as he flew over the stairs. If he remembered everything correctly, it should lead to the Ocular. 

Yes. Perhaps if he spied on the Exarch, he could find the adventurers he sought. 

The Shoebill flapped hard and dove into this second shaft, but fumbled on his landing near the end of it, wobbling as he came to a full rest and ruffling his feathers. He waddled slowly towards the sharp drop off that led into the Ocular. Stopping at the edge, he looked down through the beams of the chandelier, taking in the sight of several familiar figures gathered below... 

They were all standing near each other, save for the red and white-haired Miqo'te in his ridiculous robes, still wearing that great, ornamented staff. The Allagan-blooded fool they called the Crystal Exarch; "G'raha Tia", the adventurers had named him...? Oh, he recalled _that_ one well enough...his power over the Crystal Tower and his enigmatic nature had been the most vexing mystery the former Ascian had had for a time. 

Now the shoebill turned his attention to the others standing around the Exarch. His eyes moved over to the two near the cart. A white haired Viera and a purple haired Miqo'te; if he recalled correctly, they went by the names Yuki and Sumire. He recognized the two male Miqo'te Keepers as well; he watched as Ice walked over to Angel with tea cups. They had all been present towards the journey to slay the Lightwardens. However, it was the one enjoying her tea beside Angel that had the most familiar presence; the one who'd bedeviled him from the beginning. The one who'd always made him feel at odds with himself, always made him question the works of his own hands. 

The one who had dealt the final blow, pierced through his heart and struck him down amidst the ruins of Amaurot.

The one that had ended his... suffering.

_Shoto._

She was the one whose shard was so _damnably_ close to...

The shoebill, knowing the darkness of the ceiling and its shadows would hide him, remained silent, watching them all.

Waiting...

* * *  
' _What was that...?_ '

Before the conversation could continue, the Exarch paused, then looked to the door. He could tell someone or something had entered the Ocular, as he and Beq Lugg had made a Ward to protect their research, and the vessels, within the Umbilicus. His ruby eyes focused, then quickly scanned the room; he could find nothing amiss. He put his finger to his chin and sat his half-drank cup of tea down on the cart.

' _That's odd... I was certain..._ '

"G'raha?" Angel's worried voice broke the silence. He had noticed the Exarch's distraction, "Is everything okay?" 

The distracted Miqo'te's ear flicked at his name, spoken by his friend. He nodded as he quickly turned his attention back to the group.

"Everything's fine," he smiled to reassure them; in fact, to make a point of it being fine, he picked his cup up again, then drank a bit more. Once he placed the cup back on the saucer he gestured slightly, "In fact, I would ask a favor of you. There is still much to be done here on the First since the return of the night sky. This world still needs help to get back on track."

Ice beamed as he refilled Angel's cup; he made sure to stir in extra sugar, then took it and a glazed donut back to his husband. Angel nodded happily, as he took the refilled tea and the donut. Ice looked back to the Exarch.

"You know you can count us in!" Angel simply nodded along with a soft smile as he agreed, then nipped some of his donut.

Sumire chimed in as well, "You have my lance too, G'raha!" He smiled as he sat his empty cup down. Yuki immediately tugged his ear at his informal tone. "Er. Right, I forgot," he rubbed his ear, blushed, then looked to the Viera, apologetically. The Exarch blinked, confused; he didn't mind so much when they were alone here, but also didn't want to be too picky with what his friends could call him. Unlike the others, however, Sumire tended to forget where he was, and had confused quite a few people along the way by referring to the Exarch by his name. He had agreed to try to stay consistent with 'Exarch' so he wouldn't confuse anyone... of course, that was mainly between himself and Yuki for now.

"What he _means_ is that you have our support as well." Yuki nodded, then crossed her arms over her chest; one hand still holding her tea cup. The Exarch brought up a hand to conceal a chuckle at the interaction between the two.

He smiled, then nodded, "I appreciate the gesture."  
  
"I see I'm the last to get a say in," Shoto folded her arms, then smiled at the Exarch, "but you know that I am also in full support wherever I'm needed."

"Despite knowing that you would help, it nevertheless heartens me to hear your reassurances," the Exarch smiled, a bit of relief crossed his face. "Thank you, my friends. Let us begin, then." He looked to each of them and took a breath to settle his thoughts. "As you are all aware, the Scions have not been idle either. Alphinaud has been helping Chai-Nuzz in Eulmore. Urianger and Y'shtola have been off doing some research of their own and sending me reports on what they've found interesting. Thancred and Ryne have mostly been helping to monitor and maintain Eden since you restored the elements to The Empty." He looked to the Miqo'te couple, "Angel, Ice, I'd like you two to travel to Amh Araeng." The two nodded in response. The Exarch continued his assignment, "First, check-in with our contact in Mord Souq to see if there are any new developments. Thancred, Ryne, and Gaia may also be around if there have been. If they aren't there, then rendezvous with Alisaie at Journey's End to see how things are progressing. Alisaie has been working with Beq Lugg to administer treatments to those affected by the Sin Eaters," he blinked and stopped, then flicked his ears back slightly as he realized what he'd just said, "Ah! That's right. They were going to check in on Alisaie's progress today. That must be where they went..."  
  
There was a brief moment of silence before Shoto spoke, "Exarch?"

"Ah! Right," he looked over to the female Miqo'te after she drew his attention, "Shoto, I would like for you, Yuki, and Sumire to travel to Eulmore and rendezvous with Alphinaud. Once you've checked in with him, I'd like for you to head onward to the Tempest and check in with our Ondo friends regarding Emet-Selch's recreation of Amaurot."

"Is something happening to it?" Yuki asked, as she put aside her empty cup. The red-haired Miqo'te shook his head slightly, a concerned look crossed his face. 

"No, and that's what concerns me."

"I don't get it," Sumire tilted his head. 

The Exarch crossed his arms, "With Emet-Selch's defeat, we assumed that the magicks used to keep it around would begin to fade. Yet, upon a recent scrying, I noticed there was no sign of change. The area shows no sign of weakening as expected, though, for a blessing, it does not seem to be gaining in aetheric density nor expanding. I'd like you to see if the Ondo have noticed anything strange in the area as of late."

Yuki nodded, "Understood," the Viera shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Shoto's hands curled tighter around her teacup as she continued to listen to the discussion and began to think on the Exarch's words. That strange ache in her chest returned at the mention of Emet-Selch. Her eyes focused on the swirl of liquid in her tea cup. Things had been different, ever since Ardbert's soul had rejoined with her. She'd noticed strange things... yet she hadn't wanted to tell anyone else; it felt silly. They reminded her of things they had learned about in Amaurot from the shades; Creation Magic.

Angel seemed similarly focused on the remaining part of his donut; almost to the exclusion of all else. Ice and Sumire both seemed equally thoughtful, yet not as intensely so as Shoto and Angel were. Yuki looked around to the others as she thought about everything so far. She turned back to the Exarch and broke the thoughtful silence first.

"Have you asked Urianger or Y'shtola their opinions?" 

"I have," he nodded, "I contacted Y'shtola to ask for her advice on the matter, and she believes she may have new information from some recently rediscovered Ronkan ruins, but would like a bit more time to speak with Urianger and interpret what she and the Viis of Rak'tika found." He looked to the mirror on the back wall, "While she was here, she mentioned that she could see another presence of Amaurotine ruins; they were similar to the ruins that make up the Ondo Cups. It was farther into the depths; farther even than recreation of Amaurot." He fidgeted slightly, then flicked one ear, "While I am able to see a general view of the area, I have yet to be able to focus under the water, and I'm afraid that it's too far from the Tower for me to investigate. It was only due to Y'shtola's vision that we found it at all."

"New ruins...?" Ice's eyes went wide at the mention of more ruins, farther out than Amaurot. He shifted to step forward excitedly, and broke Angel's focus on his donut, "Do you think they might lead to more information on the Ancients like the shades and what we learned in Akadaemia Anyder?" 

Angel looked up to his husband with a confused blink. Ice's question snapped Shoto's attention back from her thoughts; perhaps, this would be a good chance to learn more? Maybe she could even find some answers to her own questions.

The Exarch nodded to Ice in return, "It's distinctly possible. Y'shtola has plans to arrive in Eulmore as well, as she is quite interested in these new ruins herself. Once there, you can all journey forth together." He paused, then looked among the group a bit sadly, "Would that I could join you in exploring, alas, I must continue my trials here if we are to send everyone home safely." 

* * *  
The shoebill had been straining to listen to the group below, moving from foot to foot impatiently. Yes, yes, all kinds of assignments and adventures for the intrepid Warriors of Light and Darkness, and their companions. This shard dearly needed "repairs", perhaps more than most others; none of this was new or particularly interesting, and none of it provided a moment he might dramatically emerge and demand information in.

Though... Amaurot. _That_ mention struck a chord, all too sharply, and kept his gaze focused on Shoto.  
  
Kept it so focused on Shoto that he almost didn't notice that the image of her blurred with his waning consciousness. Damn it all. Even though he had taken on this smaller form, his strength continued to leave him; the injuries he'd sustained now caused him pain even as a bird. He struggled to remain standing... and he definitely wasn't going to keep his balance on this ledge.

 _Not_ **_now_ ** , he thought, but it was no use--he teetered over as he made a small _squawk!_ noise. A rush of wind moved against his feathers. He was falling... falling down to the floor below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen to our feathery ascian as he falls? Stay tune for next week's chapter on Sunday, September 6th. If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios or follow the story with images here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	5. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warriors were given their assignment while a certain shoebill listened in from above. Now, they are getting an unexpected guest dropping in. The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

_ Squawk... _

Shoto's ears twitched at the sound from above. Yuki blinked, then looked around for the source of the noise. Sumire had drawn his weapon and looked ready to fight. Ice blinked, as the sound had been odd, and Angel took a moment to realize something had happened; his thoughts still suck on the prior conversation. Shoto focused, then turned her gaze upward to the darkness of the vaulted ceiling; she was sure the sound had come from above. A moment later, she spotted it: a mass falling swiftly towards the floor. Her instincts kicked in, and she sprinted off as soon as she'd shoved her cup into Angel's hands; too quickly for him to realize what was going on. He shoved the last of his donut into his mouth to free his other hand for her teacup, but fumbled and missed it. Ice quickly caught the cup and saucer before it could fall to the floor, then looked to Shoto. Angel looked relieved, then finally noticed the falling mass as well... some sort of bird...?

Shoto reached out to catch the bird just before it could impact the floor; a grey-blue one, of medium size. It wasn't very heavy as it lay curled in her arms. The female Miqo'te slid to a stop, then turned back to the group with a confused look on her face. She had seen this kind of bird at least once before... in Kholusia.

"It's," she frowned as she looked down, "It's a shoebill." The healer in her instantly knew something was wrong. The Exarch blinked, then looked up to the ceiling for a moment. He tilted his head thoughtfully, as he looked back to the bird Shoto had caught.

' _ A bird that large certainly would have gotten my attention _ ,' he looked over to Angel, as the White Mage carefully added his own empty teacup to the pile that Ice now held, then hurried to Shoto's side. The Exarch sighed quietly, then shook his head a little, ' _ I'm probably just being overly cautious... Lyna would certainly tease me for being so on edge over a bird. _ '

"It seems badly hurt," Angel frowned, and flicked his ears worriedly. Shoto nodded, then focused for a moment. She ran her aether over the bird's form, but all she could tell from a quick survey was that it had pretty bad internal injuries. She'd have to focus further if she wanted to fix it, and that might be better suited to her room rather than the Ocular. Shoto stopped her aether, then looked over to Angel.

"The poor thing is definitely wounded," she looked down to the bird again, "It must have flown into the Tower to seek shelter." Angel worriedly nodded in response, then the two healers headed back to rejoin the others. Shoto carefully cradled the bird in her arms as she stopped beside Ice.

"Is it dead?" The Warrior asked curiously, focused mostly on the bird.

"No," Shoto shook her head, "but it's definitely in very poor shape." She turned to look at the Exarch; Shoto was very much the archetypal healer, and was always eager to help if she could. Her tail curled happily as she thought of helping this bird fly again, "If it's alright, I'd like to take it with me back to my room at the Pendants. Maybe I can help mend it enough that I can get it flying again." Eos and Selene instantly appeared at the mention of mending the bird, then swirled around her excitedly. Shoto sighed softly, and said, "Not  _ now _ , you two," which made the two fairies pout slightly, then immediately re-dismiss themselves. The Scholar then beamed a smile to the Exarch and hoped it would be okay. The Exarch seemed thoughtful as he stared at the bird for the moment.

Emet-Selch; or rather, the shoebill; waited for the pain of impact. He drifted in and out as he desperately tried to stay conscious. He didn't immediately realize that he wasn't still falling. It felt warm, like he was being held aloft. Only then did he realize his body wasn't still moving. He partly opened one eye to see the dark-haired, female Miqo'te looking right back at him. He was indeed being held... it was none other than  _ her _ . The momentary silence was then broken by the Exarch's answer to Shoto's request; at which she looked up from him, to the red-haired Seeker.

"I don't see the problem with it. Just be careful, okay? Injured animals can be dangerous if they get frightened," he held up a finger to make a point, "If you should need any sort of medicine or require further assistance, I'm certain you can ask Chessamile in Spagyrics." He looked up to the ceiling again, thoughtfully, "I just hope there aren't more of his flock injured somewhere."

"Thank you," Shoto nodded excitedly, then looked back to the bird at the mention of assistance from Chessamile. She wasn't as sure about herbal remedies, so she just may seek her advice later. Angel took a half-step forward, then curled the tip of his tail as he looked at Shoto; he had a very similar desire to help out however he could.

"I-I'd like to help too, if you need me, Shoto," he looked to the bird, as Yuki shook her head.

"Must you two always be the ones volunteering to help those in need?" She looked over at Sumire, "Is this just a healer thing?" The purple-haired Miqo'te just replied with a laugh and a slight shrug. 

"It's just," Angel shook his head, "it feels like a bad injury," he ignored Yuki's comments, then looked back to Shoto, "Though, I could be misjudging how bad, since it was just a quick glance." He paused, his ears flicked, and a quiet, nervous purr escaped his throat. Ice put a hand on his husband's head to settle his worried thoughts.

Sumire stretched, "I'm sure it's only late afternoon, but we should all probably purchase some supplies from the Markets before it gets too late," he flicked his tail pointedly, "Especially if we're heading out on two separate, long trips."

"Ah, about that," the Exarch took a step forward as he smiled, "I spoke with Bragi earlier when I bought the tea and food. He assured me that you would be welcome at any time to stock up on whatever you may need." He looked to his friends, then the bird. While he had told Lyna to make sure their rooms were ready, he hadn't anticipated the distraction of an injured bird. There would be no harm in waiting until tomorrow to head out. "Perhaps... as late as it has gotten, you should all take your time today, and prepare to head out on your journeys tomorrow morning. Your rooms should already be prepared for you."

"I think taking the rest of the day to prepare is a good plan," Yuki nodded, then looked to Shoto; specifically, the bird in her arms, "Especially with distractions." Her tone wasn't angry, but she'd kept it unclear. Sumire frowned at her, but said nothing about it. Ice's calming presence helped Angel focus. The White Mage still fidgeted a bit nervously, and was still torn on what he should do. He stumbled slightly over his own words, "I-I can... that is... a-afterrr we pick up some... supplies, I can... stop by... to check in? Y-Your rrroom is on the way... to ourrrs," his tail curled.

"That would be great!" Shoto beamed. Ice smiled gently and leaned over to look at Angel.

"You're overthinking it, Love."

Shoto nodded in agreement to Ice, "Sometimes a second opinion is helpful! You should go with Ice to get what you need, and I'll see what I can do in the meantime, okay?" Angel looked a bit relieved that she'd understood his fumbled offer, then nodded in reply; he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. She grinned at him reassuringly, and Ice chuckled at his husband. The Exarch cleared his throat to refocus everyone.

"There's one last thing I wanted to give you before I let you go," he reached into his robes with his crystal hand. He withdrew it a moment later to reveal five small, blue crystal clips in his palm. "With Urianger's help, Beq Lugg and I combined Whisperweeds with small shards of the Tower to create something equivalent to Linkpearls. Although, I couldn't make them quite as small as I wanted to and still allow them to have the range I needed." He stepped forward to allow everyone to take one of the crystal clips as he continued, "Since my assignments are splitting you all up to such distances, I felt it necessary to come up with a way to contact you in case anything happened."

"A way to keep tabs on us, you mean?" Yuki teased as she took one for herself. Sumire grabbed one next, then looked it over to figure out how it was meant to work. The Exarch blushed a little, slightly flustered at Yuki's tease. Angel hopped forward and took two, then handed one to Ice, the other to Shoto; he then took the last one for himself.

"These seem like something the Crystarium Guard could use," Ice commented as he looked over the clip.

The Exarch frowned, "Whisperweeds have a limited range, and require relays among the guards, but they are easily replaced and quicker to distribute. I certainly wish they were much easier to make, but perhaps I can give the plan to Katliss for something more easily mass-produced." He shook his head, "Ah, I'm getting distracted. I have something else I must attend to before I return to work on the vessels. There's not much left in the basket, but you may have anything that's left if you would like."

"What about you, G'raha?" Angel worriedly asked as he held the clip against himself. The Exarch blushed a little, then smiled reassuringly.

"I promise I kept some for myself. I'll have some with another pot of tea this evening before I retire to bed. None of you need worry for me," he flicked his ears slightly, then gave a slight bow. "You're free to go now, my friends. I will speak with you on the morrow, unless something should arise."

The Exarch turned and hurried off. Yuki turned, then tugged at Sumire's sleeve.

"I'd like to drop my things off in my room before I go to the Markets. Perhaps you could do the same."

"That does sound like a better idea than dragging everything through the Markets if we're going to spend the night first," he stretched again, then looked down to his clothes, "Actually the thought of that long journey to Kholusia already makes me feel sleepy. I think stopping by my room first might be a good idea," his tail flicked thoughtfully. Yuki tugged his sleeve a bit more insistently, which got him to follow her out of the Ocular. Shoto had put the crystal clip in her pocket carefully, then readjusted the bird in her arms.

"It's okay, little guy, we'll get you all fixed up and flying again," the dark-haired female Miqo'te turned to head out towards the Pendants, which just left Ice and Angel. Ice sat the cups and saucers he'd been balancing on the cart, then leaned in close to Angel.

"I think this is our cue to get moving," Angel nodded slightly, distracted by Shoto's departure. "Maybe we should check around the Markets first?" Angel just nodded again. Ice noticed his distracted look, and lack of actual response. The Warrior's blonde hair swayed as he took a step around his husband to look more directly at him, "Shall we see what sort of troub--" He swiftly trailed off as Angel looked directly at him. The White Mage pouted disapprovingly before the Warrior could even finish his suggestion of finding trouble, "...I  _ mean~ _ , let's see if we can find... good  _ deals _ ! On supplies. And items. And  _ food _ ." He grabbed the last donut from the basket, flashed a grin, then started to head off.

"H-Hey!" Angel reached for the donut, then hurried after the Warrior with a determined flick of his tail; it seemed like Ice successfully distracted his husband with something else...

* * *   
Outside the Tower, it was very late afternoon; early evening; and the lights around the Crystarium were on. The sky outside the crystal canopies was a deep orange as the sun set for the day. Shoto still cradled the bird in her arms as she carefully made her way down the stairs. She didn't want to jostle him too much and risk worsening whatever injuries he had before she could even try to repair them. The shoebill didn't move much, it just continued to rest, and breathe quietly. The female Miqo'te took her time heading down as she felt distracted by the bird; it almost reminded her of someone. It was an odd thought, but perhaps that was why she'd felt the need to help it? She just smirked to herself as she reached the bottom of the stairs, then headed across the plaza towards the Markets and the Pendants. 

The Scholar stopped halfway across the plaza, then looked to the side. She stared towards the Aetheryte Plaza; to the stairs where they first encountered Emet-Selch. The party just didn't feel the same without him around. Even after their battle, it still seemed like the Ascian would pop up with that smirk on his face and some sort of quip or remark at any moment...

...but he never did.

"Ah~! Here is the appointed hero of the hour," a male voice from behind her teased. Shoto's eyes widened and her heart hammered in her chest; could it be...? The Miqo'te turned swiftly towards the sound of the voice, but only found an Elf teasing a Mystel who looked to be out of breath; bent over and panting. She seemed to have rushed to meet her friend at the aetheryte shard, only to be teased by way of greeting. That ache that had been with her returned sharply, and Shoto did her best to shake it off; the pain still sat on her face, though. She turned toward the Markets again, then took off with a hurried pace to get to her room.

* * *   
Angel and Ice exited the Tower only a few moments after Shoto had started to make her way across the plaza. The blonde Miqo'te grinned at his husband, who'd managed to procure the donut somewhere between the Ocular and the front door.

"I'm surprised you didn't take some of the other sweets from the basket," he teased. Angel pouted as he took another bite of the half-eaten donut, then replied in a mumble with the treat in his mouth.

" _ I like Hanji-Fae's donuts _ ." Despite his best efforts, his comment was still clear to Ice. The Warrior snickered, then stopped only a few stairs down; he'd noticed Shoto was staring at the Aetheryte Plaza. Angel continued to eat the donut, as he tried to finish it before they got down the stairs. Ice reached up to stop him from continuing. Angel blinked, then looked past Ice to take notice of Shoto, as the Mystel ran across the plaza from the stairs to the Amaro Launch and skidded to a halt beside the aetheryte shard.

"Ah~! Here is the appointed hero of the hour," the Elf commented, with a grin. Angel felt a shiver up his spine, which made his tail curl against him. He looked immediately to Shoto, and saw the expression on her face. It put everything together for him, and he frowned. Ice crossed his arms over his chest as Shoto turned to hurry off.

"Maybe you should go check on her after we hit the Markets," Ice flicked his tail, "We could get her something to cheer her up." Angel remained silent, which made Ice turn to look up the two stairs. He seemed confused, "Angel?"

"I think I understand what's been wrong with her," he responded, then gripped the strap of his bag across his chest.

Ice tilted his head, "I mean, I think I get that it has something to do with Emet-Selch. He always called us heroes instead of our names, and I remember that we met him at the Plaza stairs." Angel nodded, then took a few slow steps past Ice. "What I don't get is why she looked like--" he stopped before he finished his thought. Angel noticed the abrupt end to his husband's thought, then looked up, over his shoulder. Ice's expression looked almost apologetic.

"Looked like...?" Angel turned to face Ice, who then took the few steps to be beside him.

"Looked like you did, when we met," Ice frowned, then reached down to take hold of Angel's hand. The black-haired Miqo'te's ears fell to the sides at the wording.

"I'm sure it isn't quite the same," he gently squeezed Ice's hand, "But I think the reason she cried the way she did was because she felt something different than the rest of us in that moment." He looked back to the plaza; to the place they'd first met Emet-Selch. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say she's still not sure what to make of it, nor how to deal with it."

"...Well," Ice spoke quietly, "if that's the case, you may be the best one to talk to her about it." Angel fell silent, and blinked, then looked back up to Ice. The blonde tried to be encouraging; he gave his husband a small smile as he returned the squeeze of his hand. "You're right, it's not exactly the same situation, but wasn't she there when it happened...? She was the reason you were safe in Mist, wasn't she?"

Angel looked back to the plaza, thoughtfully.

Ice sighed softly, "C'mon, let's grab some supplies from the Markets. We can find something for her, then maybe you can keep her company for a while," Ice kissed Angel's cheek. The smaller Miqo'te nodded in reply, then immediately turned to bury his face against the blonde's chest and hugged him tightly. Ice blinked at the sudden hug; Angel shook slightly. He hadn't meant to upset his husband by reminding him of that trauma, he just realized that the two of them might be able to talk better than he could.

* * *   
Yuki finished putting her things away rather quickly. She took her coat off, then summoned her emerald carbuncle onto the bed. The soft jingle of the aetheric creature solidifying was a reassuring sound for the Viera. She smiled, then leaned down to point at the carbuncle's nose.

"Stay here and guard the room. I'll be back shortly, and I expect things to remain the way they are." The carbuncle tilted its head, nodded, then sat on the bed like a guard dog. Yuki nodded, satisfied, then headed out to pick up some things at the Markets. She hadn't gotten very far from her room when she saw Shoto stop in front of hers. The Miqo'te seemed completely lost in thought, then a moment later, she was crying again; it was the same expression she'd had a few times when she thought no one was around in the FC house. Yuki crossed her arms, then sighed. She turned her head to see if Sumire was coming, and found his door ajar. The Viera shook her head, then went over to his room. She gently pushed the door open, but didn't see the violet-haired Miqo'te anywhere. It was dim, only two small lights had been turned on. 

"Sumire?" Her voice was cautious, as she took a few steps into the room. She was greeted with silence, to which she frowned, then looked around again. Nothing seemed disturbed in the kitchenette, nothing was missing or moved on the table, his bathroom was open and dark, the window was still closed, his dresser hadn't been touched...

It wasn't until she got around the screen beside the door that she found him. Still half sitting on the bed, he looked to have just fallen over asleep; he hadn't even dropped his bag. She sighed with both relief and frustration, then hurried over to him.

"Hey. You can't really be that tired, we've barely done anything" she grumbled, then reached down to shake him awake. He didn't stir immediately, which in turn, made Yuki a bit worried. She shook his shoulder a bit harder, then spoke a bit louder, "Sumire, if you're going to sleep, that's fine, but you should really get into bed properly."

"...eh...?" His voice was quiet, and he took a moment to register what happened. One pale green eye blinked open, then he shook his head a little as he pushed himself up. "Y-Yuki...?"

"Really, Sumire, you didn't even close your door," she stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest, "Are you  _ that _ tired? We've barely done anything today."

"W-Well, my room," he looked around at the dim room, then turned his head towards the bed he sat on, "My room's just... comfortable." He slipped his bag off and sat it beside his bed, then flicked his ears. He stood up carefully, "I'm fine," then straightened his shirt, "It was just a long trip to Mor Dhona, and the tea was relaxing. We have supplies to get for tomorrow, don't we?" The Dragoon smiled to the Summoner, who still looked concerned.

"Maybe you should stay here and head to bed then," Yuki shook her head, "I can get us both supplies." The Viera turned to head off; the Miqo'te quickly followed.

"But I wanted to go  _ with _ you, Yuki." The Viera blushed slightly at his words, but continued out of his room, then up the hall without pause. Something about his words; his tone; they reminded her of why she left her village. That fear she felt when she realized the males would be coming back soon, and her mother would find her someone to marry. That life she realized she didn't want, and had run from. Such an odd thing to feel from his words, maybe she was also more tired than she thought.

Sumire felt confused, but hurried after her quickly. She had such long strides, he had to run to keep up with her. She only slowed as they approached the Markets; at which point she stopped to look back at him. He barely skidded to a stop in time not to run right into her.

"I saw Shoto go to her room." Sumire just tilted his head a little in response, it felt random, but Yuki continued, "She was crying again." He suddenly understood why she'd said it, then frowned.

"...Any idea if it's the usual sort of thing... or if something happened...?" He asked, worriedly. 

"No," Yuki shook her head, "though I'd be willing to bet coming back here reminded her of a lot all at once. I'm sure she'll be okay with some rest, and Angel will be checking on her later."

"We'll be traveling with her," Sumire looked thoughtful as he looked over to the stairs that led to the Markets, "maybe we could get her something from the Markets to cheer her up?"

"I was thinking the same thing," Yuki nodded, then smiled a little. She had successfully distracted herself from unpleasant thoughts for the moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Shoto is having a hard time. What will happen once she gets the bird to back to her room to heal it? Stay tune for next week's chapter on Sunday, September 13th. If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios or follow the story with images here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the Tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	6. Broken Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoto carried the wounded shoebill back to her room, however what surprises await her to find out this is not ordinary shoebill. The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the long, quiet terrace as Shoto made her way to her room. All the while, fresh tears continued down her face. Why? Why did it feel this way? This pain was similar to when she'd lost those who were close to her. Could she really say that Emet-Selch was 'close to her'?

It  _ did _ feel like an emptiness with his absence... 

The Miqo’te paused for a moment at her door, as she pictured a familiar face from her past; Haurchefant. She could see him in his Ishgardian Knight's armor, his light blue hair fluttered in the cold, Coerthan breeze. There had been many nights she'd spent at his side, by the hearth fire, regaling him with stories of her adventures. He always listened intently, and was always eager to hear more stories. There was always a mug of hot cocoa ready for her when she arrived, and she'd find hours swiftly passed while she held it and spoke with him. The flavor of that cocoa was smooth, and never failed to warm her after a long day of work in the snowy hills of Coerthas. No one had thus far been able to replicate the man's recipe. 

She heard his last words again; the ones she held onto...

_ “A smile better suits a hero.” _

Several tears fell onto the shoebill's feathers at the memory, but the bird didn’t seem bothered. She nodded to herself, then forced a smile onto her face to stop the tears.

"Hang in there, little guy. We're almost there." The Miqo'te re-adjusted the bird in her arms to open the door. The shoebill seemed disgruntled by the movement, but didn't cause too much of a fuss. The door clicked open to a fresh, clean room. The bed sheets looked to have been recently laundered, and there was a nice array of fresh fruits displayed on the table. More than likely, it was another kind gesture put forth by the Exarch, just like the sandwiches had been. She would  _ definitely  _ have to thank him later.

The shoebill rustled and fluttered out of her arms. Emet-Selch hurt, and was on the verge of losing consciousness again; he could not let that happen. The Ascian needed to move to somewhere safe.

' _ Safe? Where, in this place, is safe? _ ' 

In his panicked state, though, he hit the edge of the nightstand, rather than the bed he had aimed for. The bird knocked over the lamp, then collapsed onto the bed in a heap, breathing heavily. Shoto rushed over to the bedside, and spoke as calmly as she could manage.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. You don't have to be frightened." 

The Miqo'te stopped, then thought for a moment. She bit her bottom lip as she realized, ' _ Of course this poor bird is frightened. He was hurt and doesn't know these surroundings. _ ' She was no specialist on birds, nor animals of any kind, but she  _ was _ a Healer by trade. She took a breath, then slowly edged toward the bed. Shoto moved a hand over the bird, and concentrated on a more thorough examination with her aether to find the problem.

She paused... this couldn't be right. She could tell the injuries were definitely internal, but the mass was larger than this bird. Her expression grew more puzzled as she tried to expand her aether a little further to investigate the cause.

The bird's eyes shot open as he felt the intrusion of aether. He tried, but could no longer hold this form. There was a strained squawk as he braced for the pain he knew would come.

What had been a bird suddenly grew larger before the Miqo'te's eyes. Shoto's concentration instantly broke. She fell backward onto the floor with a surprised squeak, and landed directly on her rear. Her surprised expression remained on her face as she stared. What had been a shoebill just a moment ago was now a man.

An all too familiar-looking man.

He sat with his arm held across his middle. His hair fell over his face, which hid it from her point of view. In all her years in the field as a Scholar, this was new. She sat frozen on the floor, and tried to process what she saw before her.

He knew she was startled. Hells,  _ anyone _ would be. 

Emet-Selch grimaced, and clenched his teeth as he doubled over a bit further. By  _ Zodiark _ , he really hated this 'mortal' thing. Without access to his normal power, he could not heal his wounds like usual. The Ascian still had enough of his aether to at least be aware of his surroundings. He could tell she was still on the floor. A half smirk pulled at his lips, and he finally spoke.

"It's been a while,  _ hero _ ..."

His voice was  _ very _ familiar. But...  _ why _ ...? That turn of phase. It was so similar to what had happened earlier in the plaza. Shoto looked a little more carefully at the man on the bed. She noted the short, brown hair, and the shock of white in a small section of the front. A swell of mixed emotions washed over her.

' _ No... no, this isn't possible, _ ' she thought, as words just wouldn't form from her mouth. She had struck him down herself. The battle of the Champion of Dark against the Champions of Light. Angel, Ice, Yuki and Sumire had been  _ right _ there  _ with _ her when it happened. They had helped along with the other Warriors of the First Shard so she could land the final blow. She had pierced him with the light axe. They had all seen him disappear into aether...

So,  _ how was this possible _ ...?

Pain suddenly hit the Ascian hard once more. His head tilted back to reveal his face; beads of sweat dripped down his face from his brow. His strength left him swiftly, and he fell back onto the pillows. 

Shoto no longer had any doubt in her mind the moment she saw his face: this  _ was _ Emet-Selch. The very same person she and the others had faced several weeks ago. His face, though... the pain did not seem like an act, and he grew noticeably paler the longer he lay there. Her mind reeled with so many questions, she could only sit on the floor, flabbergasted. Why did he come here... to the very people that had sought his end? It made no sense. Her chest tightened as those pangs of guilt and sorrow returned; tears threatened to overtake her once more. The Scholar felt like she was back in that moment--in the ruins of Amaurot--watching as he faded away...

Emet-Selch gasped out in pain. He opened one amber eye to look towards her; was she not going to help? Perhaps he was a fool to think he could come here. He shut his eye once more, and focused instead on trying to level out his labored breathing. He briefly thought that maybe he should give in and let his body expire, but he immediately knew better; Elidibus would just find some way to bring him back again. He had done so in the past once before, and he would absolutely do it again; 'no rest for the wicked' as the saying goes. His body felt so tense from the pain, he found it difficult to settle his breathing.

Shoto finally shook off her shock, then cautiously moved over to him. Her guilt weighed heavily on her heart, and reminded her that she'd experienced so much loss of life already.

Moenbryda, Minfilia, Papalymo...

Haurchefant... 

The memories of friends she had lost in her many battles filtered through her mind, and she could not bear to deal with it again. Her healer's instincts yelled at her to try to help him; enemy or not; and she listened.

A warm, soft yellow-orange glow gently washed over Emet-Selch. It was calm, and soothing; like the warmth one would feel from the midday sun. The pain was immediately less intense, and continued to ease as the glow remained. His mind wandered at the sudden relief, and he allowed his consciousness to slip into slumber. His features softened as he relaxed. His face looked to be at peace as he slumbered; like the burden of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

The warmth he had felt was her aura and aether as she worked to mend what she could, so he could safely sleep. 

Letting her aether's flow end as the healing magicks ran their course, Shoto was wracked with a new sense of guilt; the sense of having helped their implacable foe.  _ What were you thinking? _ part of her seemed to shout. This man, this bird, everything he was and would be was nothing less than a Paragon, the very architect of Norvrandt's near-demise. 

Even if she shouldn't let him suffer, should she have...?

No. No room for such doubts. What was done was done! She smacked her own cheeks lightly, shaking her head.  _ Focus, Shoto,  _ **_focus_ ** _! _

The Miqo'te realized she should examine him; just to make sure there were no external wounds she was missing. 

Moving to open his overcoat more, she unclasped the belt that held it in place, then worked to unbutton the front of his white undershirt to check for visible injuries. Emet-Selch mumbled to himself as she moved the shirt back, and she immediately looked over to make sure he was, in fact, still asleep. This was hard enough as it was, she didn't need him awake for it. 

Shoto looked back down and the color drained from her face a bit: a large scarring marked his torso... right in the spot she had struck him in their last battle. Another new pang of yet another variety of guilt washed over her; this one the same, familiarly heavy guilt that had been with her since the day she'd...

Without thinking, her fingers reached down and brushed across the scar. Pain immediately erupted in her head as the Echo came. The room went white and changed as she tried, in vain, to get it to stop.

_ No! No! Please, not now... _

The vision was a haze. A tall, dark-robed figure walked down the streets of a giant city. This city was the grand city of Amaurot. It looked much like the recreation in the Tempest, but was even more beautiful to see in this vision. The sky had quite a heavy rain coming down upon the city. The figure's hood slid back to reveal his white locks. Shoto instantly realized this was Emet-Selch; his hairstyle was the same, for the most part, but his hair was all white. He didn't bother to fix his hood, and hurried his pace as if he were searching for something. As he hurried along, the rain began to let up. Emet-Selch paused, then stretched his hand out, palm up. He noted the easing rain as he looked up, then continued forward in his hurried pace. Up ahead, a smaller, black-robed figure sat on a bench, and stared quietly up into the sky. The rain drops bounced off their white mask; it was exactly like those Shoto had seen in the recreation of Amaurot. Their robes clearly drenched from the recent downpour. Emet-Selch stopped within a few fulms of this person.

"You'll catch a cold, being out in the rain like this, you know." In response, the figure turned their gaze to him with a soft smile. They waited only a breath before they spoke.

"Always such a worrier, Hades! I just wanted to enjoy the refreshing feeling of the rain against my skin. It's peaceful." Their voice was light, and the tone gave away that they were female. “Come, have a seat beside me.” 

Emet-Selch sighed loudly, dramatically, but took a seat beside her despite this show of overwrought put-uponness; his gaze never broke from her, not once. Shoto thought she could almost feel the care he had for this person through the Echo.

_ Who is this _ ? Shoto thought. 

In the vision, Emet-Selch was crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows. "Of course I worry.  _ You _ tend to be reckless." 

The woman laughed as she replied, "There is nothing to worry about, Hades. Your wandering star knows all too well how to fend for herself. Even if my new duties to come take me far away, I will always return to be right here at your side." 

He smiled back, and his lips moved to speak a name to the figure... but it was oddly drowned out. The scene hazed, and a voice echoed into her mind.

_ 'It's  _ _ quite  _ _ impolite to intrude into someone else's mind.' _

Shoto's eyes fluttered open as she awoke from her vision, the grip of the Echo fading. As she tried to get her bearings, the Miqo'te realized with mounting dread that she had passed out, and had fallen forward... onto the Ascian before her. 

To make matters worse, he was now awake, and staring at her with both his usual wry amusement and some sort of new intense curiosity. Red  _ raced _ across her cheeks as embarrassment threatened to kill her. Emet-Selch glanced down to his open shirt, then back to her, a sardonic smirk curling his dark lips.

"Well~. Quite enjoying the show, were we?" 

Shoto didn't answer, her voice caught in her throat. She pushed herself off of him quickly, and tried to regain her composure; she did notice he seemed to be healed for the most part for now. Thank goodness for small mercies, maybe?

"I suppose I owe you my thanks. Although," Emet-Selch looked away from her, and towards the wall, "I have to say, I'm  _ quite _ surprised my half-subconscious gamble paid off, o Warrior of Light."   
  
"...You mean, 'why did you help me?'"

The Ascian shrugged. "It's a fair query, isn't it?"

"...Hn. W-well, I mean, the same goes for you," Shoto said as she drew in a breath. After this slight pause, she tilted her head, "Why did you come seeking aid here, of all places? That's more of a gamble than I'd expect from you, Ha...Emet-Selch." 

The Ascian was still looking away; his face was, as ever, hard to read.

A long moment of silence passed, and just when it became truly unbearable, he spoke again.

"...I believe I posed my question  _ first _ ." 

Of course he'd say something like that. Shoto then let out a loud sigh, and threw up her hands in defeat.

"Honestly? I...I don't  _ know _ ." She frowned as she tried to once more focus on his face. The Warrior of Light and Darkness felt conflicted; so many thoughts and questions flew through her mind. He had been  _ gone _ , lost forever, a memory only that he had once lived...And this had been the right thing to do.

So the relief and joy she felt was, was alien, was wrong, wasn't it?! Haurchefant and the others hadn't been their enemy, like he was...! Yotsuyu's demise had been tragic, and the wound it carved through Gosetsu's heart a horror to see, but the knowledge she would never bedevil them again was still a lifted weight...! Shouldn't there be some terror at seeing Emet-Selch again...?!

(Was it really him, even? Couldn't some other Ascian assume his face as a mask...?)

He turned to look at her as the thoughts crossed her mind; as if he could hear them. It seemed to intensify his smirk as his golden eyes met hers again.

"I see~. Perhaps I truly convinced you of the righteousness of our cause! Ah, yes, you've clearly been swayed to the side of Reunion! And to think, all it took was a dramatic death-scene," Emet-Selch said with a malevolent chuckle. "Oh, the  _ scandal _ , dear Warrior of Light! What will the Scions think??"

She flicked her tail as he spoke, annoyed. Ohhh, it was the genuine article, alright; her doubts on that score were gone. No matter how good an actor, no one else could've genuinely  _ needled _ her the way he did.

The Ascian went to rise, and the smirk fell away in an instant, replaced by a pained wince. His hand wrapped across his chest. Shoto noticed, and bit her lip.

"I was able to seal your wounds, but some of it will have to heal naturally on its own." 

She eyed the wound on his chest once more, guilt obvious on her face; Emet-Selch noticed, of course.

"Oh, come now,  _ hero _ . Are you truly  _ that _ worked up, over this little mark? Surely you didn't think you could get rid of me  _ that _ easily." 

She forced herself to ignore his snide comment, and instead, persisted with her own questions.

"Who was that woman in your memory?" 

Emet-Selch's eyebrows raised, then he shrugged as he shook his head...he was deflecting, and it was obvious by his immediate  _ I-don't-care-and-never-could _ affect.

"Now now, if you're going to aid the glorious cause of Rejoining, you have to remember the  _ basics _ , dear hero. I told you, we seek to restore our friends, family, and loved ones."

_ I could ask, 'which was she', but the answer's obvious... _

"You loved her, didn't you?" Shoto asked quietly. 

Emet-Selch's lips pursed in annoyance, his brow furrowing as his cheeks colored lightly and he scowled at her. 

"That hardly seems relevant. Let's instead return to your first, more intelligent query. 'Why take the gamble?'"

Shoto rolled her eyes lightly and crossed her arms with a huff. "Fine, then."

Another moment of silence, and Hades sighed again, his shoulders slumping in that world-weary way he had. 

"Tch. Unfortunately, I think my answer would be similar to yours; a complicated matter of circumstances and  _ 'it just felt right at the time.'  _ I must suppose, however, that I made the right choice, seeing as you  _ did _ heal me." 

His eyes narrowed on Shoto in that moment. It was as if he were looking  _ through _ her; his expression shifted to more of a puzzled look.

What he was studying was the aetherial nature of her soul...a soul that had changed since he last observed it. During their last battle, she had been the cusp of changing into a sin eater, when she was suddenly renewed. 

In what he had been sure was merely a trick of the Light, he had seen... 

_ My wandering star.  _

The soul before him was still not complete, but it was certainly more vibrant than it had been before. Its hue could not go unnoticed, but he was more focused on its strength. He quietly muttered, " _ Eight times rejoined _ ," and those words sounded familiar to Shoto. They were the same words he had said before, only the number had been seven then.

"You said that before," she replied, then tilted her head. 

He still seemed lost in thought, almost as if he'd expected her answer...

"Hythlodaeus  _ did _ say you were distracted," she commented quietly to herself.

"How do you know that name?" he asked, that intensity suddenly, almost violently returning to his gaze and demeanor. His face suddenly looked stern, his amber eyes were piercing; he had still heard her. Shoto’s ears tipped back at his sudden change in demeanor, then she blinked in confusion. Her ears flicked as she recovered herself, settling into a chair beside where he was laid out.

"W-When we traveled to the city... the... city of Amaurot... that you recreated. There was... one shade that acted...  _ differently _ from all the others.” 

She looked down and thought for a moment, as she recalled the memory, 

“He said he knew that he was just a shade, and told me that his name was Hythlodaeus. He also mentioned that he used to be a friend of yours, and said you seemed distracted as of late…” The Miqo’te paused for a moment, unsure if she should continue. She went ahead only when he said nothing, his gaze still fixed on hers.

"Hythlodaeus noted the color of my soul. He said it was... ' _ the same as hers _ '." The dark-haired Miqo'te looked up at the Ascian, "I didn't know what he meant. Was that woman in your memory--"

"Stop," Emet-Selch interrupted her, "Stop, stop,  _ stop _ . That's not important right now, and I must needs process what you've already told me.” He let out a loud sigh as he folded his hands in front of his face, as he looked off to the side, “You spoke to Hythlodaeus..." 

And once more, he was lost in thought. For several moments, awkward silence reigned in the room between them; silence accompanied only by the feeling of his piercing golden eyes on her. He was staring  _ through _ her again, as if he were looking at something that she couldn't see...it made her feel unsure, of...of their conversation, of everything. After a tortuously long time, he finally lifted his head from behind his hands, then spoke quietly again.

"I'm curious about something, come closer for a moment." 

Shoto's eyes narrowed and she bit her lip, not moving. 

He sighed as he shook his head, "Oh, for Zodiark's sake. Must we truly continue with this farcical tension? Look at me, hero." The Ascian put his arms out to the sides, "My hollow jests about your 'obvious change of heart' aside, do I seem like I'm in  _ any _ condition to attack you, or ensorcel you, or do anything untoward? I flew here in the form of a  _ ridiculous seabird _ , you'll recall." 

He had a point; she could tell he was still drained from his injuries, and there wasn't any indication of ill intent, not now. 

Relaxing a little, she moved over to the bed. He patted the edge to indicate she should take a seat beside him. Reluctantly, Shoto did so, and looked up at him. Emet-Selch reached out a hand with his palm up. The Miqo'te looked confused, as she slowly reached out to touch his hand. 

The moment her hand made contact, it was like a spark ran through her. She felt the warmth of his hand, but also felt the sensation of her hand on his in return...!

A connection, a link. Like a strand of string, an aetherial tether. Had it always been there...? No, it couldn't be...She pulled her hand back quickly, but the feeling lingered for a moment before it stopped.

"What did you do?" she asked with a frown. 

Emet-Selch just shrugged. 

"Nothing. Besides, perhaps, confirming...a...a theory." Shoto blinked in confusion, her ears flickering as she tilted her head again. Between this and his evasion of a certain topic...

Emet-Selch looked over towards the window and sighed heavily again, “Alright, alright. Though I speak the truth when I tell you I did nothing to you, dear hero, I can tell you will not be satisfied with just that." He tapped his chin. "Perhaps a history lesson is in order. You must be familiar with the customs of your Eternal Bonding Ceremony, back in dear old Eorzea?" 

While still confused, the Miqo’te simply nodded when he glanced back at her. 

"Good, that makes this a bit easier to explain. Let me tell you the root of that ceremony, then."

His voice changed, taking on a more wistful tone, the tone he'd had when telling of the glories of Amaurot and the sorrow of the Final Days.

"In the days of Amaurot, life was all but eternal; a perfect, beautiful cycle. When it was time to renew oneself, one passed into the Underworld to be reborn anew, welcomed back into the world. It was nothing like how it is now; nothing so frail, so short, prone to a death with no hope of restitution for the best and the returning-luck of a bad copper piece for the worst..." He shook his head, grumbling, and moved on. "Given the flow of life back then, it was hardly uncommon to find someone whose soul resonated with your own. Even if you didn't have the Gift of Sight, you could tell when you found....” He could tell she still seemed a bit confused, “...a perfect partner, to use simple, unworthy terms. A person who reflected you, completed you. Each being one half of a whole. A soulmate."

He paused for a moment, letting his voice trail off...letting himself remember passing an orange gemstone to a slender hand--   
  
Shoto cleared her throat, and he ceased his reverie. Hades didn't jump or show outward surprise; he merely continued where he left off.

"...she was my soulmate. The one you saw in my dream." 

His amber eyes met her sapphire ones, "We decided to go through with our own Eternal Bonding Ceremony. The ceremony your tradition derives from." A soft smile spread across his face.

“She was the bright, wandering star in my night sky. My...My  _ Azem _ ."

That word. A pang struck Shoto's heart when he spoke that word, tears pricked her eyes. But  _ why...? _

“In Eorzea, of course, it is simply an exchange of vows and rings... in Amaurot, the bond that we forged was something much more literal. Much less easily sundered..." Emet-Selch’s smile faded as an ache from his wounds panged through him, looking exhausted as he finished his explanation.

Shoto felt more than a little light-headed. 

Her thoughts whirled like a cyclone, jumbled together. She wanted to press him with a hundred more questions, ask him what he was suggesting, what he was implying, everything, he couldn't mean...

No. That wouldn't do. She needed to process his return, to begin with, and he needed rest. It was good that he was in no condition to attack, but what if he worsened due to fatigue, became dangerously ill? What if she lost him again? She'd never have the answers to her questions then, right?

She stood up, then looked at the hand that had touched his. 

"You should rest," she nodded, then gestured toward the bathroom, "I'm going to go take a bath, and gather my thoughts. I... honestly don't know what to think at the moment...But...I will have more questions for you."

"I will be here," he said with only mild sarcasm. He had nowhere else to go.

Shoto nodded silently, and with that she left the Ascian be and left for the bath, where she could be alone with her thoughts. 

Emet-Selch was, indeed,  _ beyond _ exhausted. His wounds needed to further heal...and he needed to spend the night as a man, not a shoebill. The Ascian leaned back on the bed, closed his eyes, and let the darkness of sleep claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoto left the Ascian unattended in her room. How will she explain to the others about Emet-Selch? Stay tune for next week's chapter on Sunday, September 20th. If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios or follow the story with images here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> This week our tumblr version has a drawing that one of our writers, Xehnis created of the memory in Amaurot. You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the Tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	7. Sparks of Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eternal bonds are discussed! Angel discovers what he was not meant to know! Emet-Selch takes a bath! The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

As she leaned back in the tub and sank down, some of the Miqo'te Warrior of Light and Darkness's short, black hair (which shaded into teal at the tips) floating on top of the water, Shoto was consumed by one singular thought:

_What in the wide multitude of hells am I doing? Or thinking?_

Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Emet-Selch, alive and well, by all appearances, was presently resting in the adjoining room. Or, at least, he was alive and well now, because of what she'd done. Her mortal enemy, the one who'd nearly destroyed Norvrandt, and simultaneously the one who'd taught them all about the lost civilization of Amaurot and the truth of the thirteen shards, had literally dropped into her lap in the form of a shoebill.

...She was never going to take shorebirds with weird eyes for granted again.

This would've been enough of an overwhelming thing to process, and the information overload was only compounded by the strange reverberation in the Echo from touching his hand. Even now, she couldn't _quite_ process it. 

It had felt...so strangely familiar, and yet so alien…  
  
What it reminded her of most was the final battle; that moment, when the spirits of Ardbert and the other Warriors of Light from the First, when she and her friends had...combined with them? 

Rejoined…?

Feeling Ardbert's aether resonate with her own, back then, it had given her that same feeling. A sense of familiarity, and a sense of otherness, at the same time. It seemed impossible for these sensations to coexist, and yet they had. She was sure it had contributed to how despondent and out of sorts she'd been feeling...well...since then.

...But was it just a feeling?  
  
Ever since that day, she'd felt like strange things had been happening around her since then; little events that made her feel as if something was... 'off', although she still wasn't sure if they were just her wandering mind or not. Still, since they seemed to happen both on the Source and here on the First, it had to be related to _her,_ not just where she was. 

She had meant to talk to Angel about it, but she hadn't wanted to worry him; like as not, it was just after-effects of the Light they'd absorbed, back then, back when they'd gone to the Tempest...

Thinking about what had happened in the Tempest, about Amaurot, returned her mind to the events that had just transpired in the other room, with the Ascian. She lifted her hand up out of the water to examine it.

_Hades...Emet-Selch...he mentioned the Eternal Bonding Ceremony. But the Amaurotine one._

_That it was a literal, actual eternal bond between him and this…”Azem”...?_

Her thoughts trailed off as she continued to look at her hand. 

When they'd touched, it'd been like a jolt of emotional electricity down a long-forgotten cable. It'd brought back all that sudden anguish she'd felt when she watched him die, when she heard those words, “remember us, remember that we once lived.” When he'd said that, it'd felt like a part of her was dying, like her heart was being ripped out. Tears had fallen freely down her cheeks as she watched the Ascian fade away into nothingness...just thinking about it made her breath hitch and forced her to wipe away a new moisture from her eyes.

...And at the time, she'd thought, _why does this hurt so much? Why is victory so bitter?_

Sitting up again, she now thought maybe she understood. When they'd touched again, it had been...warm. Gentle. Kind, a kindness that was so bizarre to feel from the sneering, acerbic Paragon that if anyone had told her only a week ago he was capable of it, Shoto would've laughed in their face…

Was...was it that her own soul was _truly_ that similar to Emet-Selch's soulmate from the past...? To Azem's? 

Shoto smiled ruefully to herself, shaking her head. She couldn't be sure, but it fit, didn't it? It wouldn't be the first time the Echo had shown her a vision of someone like herself, but not herself. Maybe that was one question solved, amongst many; at any rate, her wrinkled fingers told her it was probably time to end her bath.

As she hoisted herself up, though, the room spun, and she had an overwhelming sense of panic and sadness, a sudden feeling that hit her like a wave. The Miqo'te braced herself, gripping the edge of the tub. ‘ _What is this?!?_ ' 

The panic she felt did not seem to fade; it was almost overwhelming. And yet... 

These weren't her feelings…! They were like the emotions from the moment she'd just been musing upon; the difference was that this time, it wasn't gentle or warm, but feelings of intense unease. 

Grounding herself and trying not to focus on the seemingly unstable room, Shoto nimbly left the tub, drying herself off as best she could and as quickly as she could, with her eyes shut tight. Throwing her clean clothes on almost literally, not bothering to properly fasten them, she pushed open the door from the bath and peered out, her ears back against her head, not sure what she expected to see. 

Emet-Selch was still laid on the bed, fast asleep...but he was moving in his sleep, shifting about and murmuring. Shoto slowly moved over to the bedside, and the feeling, in turn, seemed to intensify. She was _sure_ of it, now; this proved it, to her at least. She was feeling what he felt! The Echo from Azem had granted her some level of connection to him…

Perhaps she should've felt repulsed. But she did not. Instead, she felt suddenly, deeply curious, and reached a hand out on impulse, hovering over his shoulder; she almost instinctively wanted to wake him.

' _He looks like he's having some kind of nightmare...?_ ' 

Shoto paused as his words became clear.

"Please...don't go...Perse--" 

And then, with a swift intake of breath, Hades' amber eyes opened suddenly; Shoto backed up in surprise, her arms pulled up to her chest in an instinctive and traditional Miqo'te posture. His gaze met hers as his panic subsided, and he frowned, his brow furrowing. 

Shoto cleared her throat and looked away, folding her arms behind her as she broke the awkward silence.

"Erm. I-I came over to check on you! Since you were moving, and talking, in your sleep."

She decided quite consciously _not_ to mention the panicked feeling she'd felt flowing off him, which was thankfully subsiding, though it was replaced with a sense of frustration from the Ascian.

For his part, Hades arched his eyebrows, his lips curling into their typical insincere smirk that was half a sneer.  
  
“Well! How terribly considerate of you, my dear Warrior of Light. And here I thought I was still your dangerous, wicked enemy.” She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he snickered; the Miqo'te sighed in defeat, her ears flicking and her tail lashing. Of _course_ he would be difficult about this. Ugh!

For his part, Hades brought a hand to his forehead, hoping the woman was distracted, and was dismayed to feel how damp and sweaty he found it. His clothing felt damp, too; he must've sweated right through his finery. Damn. Perhaps his body was feverish, a reaction to the stresses of...reincarnation? Resurrection? Whatever useless term the shattered wanted to use for his current situation.

_Of course, with this accursed weakness, I'm not so different from them, am I? Thanks ever so much, dear Emissary._

Letting out a breath that threatened to become a sigh, he shifted and sat up, only to find that Shoto had, indeed, noticed the dampness of his clothing. Damn and damn. The sigh was released into the world as he shrugged in her general direction.

“If you're still in the mood to spread kindness, I wonder if I might take a turn using your bath?” he inquired. She blinked, then nodded.

“O-of course. It's all yours,” Shoto said, as she motioned towards the bathing area. The Ascian went to swing his legs over the edge of the bed...and she began to move to help him?  
  
She stopped when she registered the intensity of his gaze. Once more, Hades arched his eyebrows, and this time his smirk deepened.

“Now, now, I'm not an _invalid_ , here,” he chided. “Believe me, I am quite capable of making it into your bathtub on my lonesome...Unless, of course, you had some... _ulterior_ motive to your charity?”

“Wh-what?!?”

Emet-Selch fluttered his eyes almost coquettishly. “Really, I'm flattered that you're so keen to have your hands all over my body, but--”

“You…! Ugh! That's not it at all!” Shoto almost shouted, her expression clearly irked and her cheeks a brilliant red. He couldn't help but laugh, his grin triumphant as he almost promenaded over to the bathroom, shaking his head.  
  
“I jest, I jest! Haha, you mortals are _far_ too easy, sometimes,” he remarked. Offering a wink and a grin, he shut the door, leaving Shoto to fume.

WELL. Someone had some nerve after what she'd done for him!

Stupid Ascian! Stupid Paragon! Stupid...shoebill!!

Although, that was just like him, wasn't it? 

The Seeker grumbled to herself, fighting her blush down as she removed the sweaty sheets from where he had slept. She put them in a hamper nearby, then found a set of fresh linens of a matching cream color in a nearby armoire. Once the bed had been remade, she laid down on it with a long sigh of her own, her hands behind her head.

 _'_ **_What_ ** _a day this has turned out to be,'_ she thought, as she wondered what exactly she was going to do about Emet-Selch. 

How would she tell the others about him, about...any of this? 

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb with a quiet sigh, ' _Why do I always end up in these kinds of situations?_ ' 

Her head still hurt, and she let her eyes close as she tried to relax even a little, sort out her thoughts and her feelings. At least she felt like she'd begun to understand the strange influx of emotions from their final battle, and the sense of loss and pain she'd felt from Hades' death, the grief from seeing that axe pierce his body…

 _Azem_. That name. She wondered if she might learn anything else about it, if they returned to the Tempest? He'd re-created all of Amaurot there, including Hythlodaeus, so perhaps she could learn what that name meant, and how they connected to her. It wasn't snooping, not really; it was trying to solve the riddle of her own connection to this lost Amaurotine, why the Echo had shown her Azem's visions.

Though there was another name he'd been murmuring...With grief in his voice, he'd called out for Persep--

Shoto realized she had dozed off while laying on the bed when a sudden shift of weight was felt beside her. Her eyes flew open again to find Emet-Selch seated on the edge of the bed; he had leaned over to watch her.

“D-Didn't you just--”  
  
“I would think turnabout is fair play, my good Warrior of Light,” he replied smoothly, spreading his arms in a familiar and faux-innocent manner. His smile was maddeningly enigmatic--it hovered somewhere between genuine and sarcastic, between cruel and kind. A rather large part of her wanted to shake him and demand to know his angle! She should at _least_ tell him off for taking liberties, she'd been genuinely concerned, and he had no such excuse!

As she sat up to do exactly that, though, she realized what he was wearing; a light grey robe, of sorts, that was a little too short for his build, showing off the pale expanse of his muscular thigh. It kept him decent, but it was haphazardly draped open, with part of his jacket over his shoulder; undoubtedly for added warmth. Crimson spread violently across Shoto's face again, her ears backing as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was absolutely not helped by Hades' snort of laughter, although, perhaps to his credit, he did try to keep his chuckling contained.

"Ah, forgive me, I'm a bit limited in the choices of clothing you have available in this room of yours," he said with a flourishing gesture around the room... but, after a dramatic pause, he grinned, and leaned a bit closer, "Though I dare _say_ , is that a _blush_ I'm seeing from you, Hero?" He leaned forward a bit more, only a few ilms away from her--too close! "So, do you like what you see? Are you regretting--"

The Miqo'te's heart hammered in her chest as her tail lashed, "I regret _absolutely nothing_ , and what I would _like_ is for you to be _fully clothed!_ " Shoto replied; she was fully aware that her actions spoke otherwise, her eyes moving swiftly from him back to the side, the blush still very present on her face. 

Emet-Selch just shrugged and gave an almost gentle sigh. "Tut, tut. You are _no_ fun. But I was truthful, my dear hero, I don't have very many options--" he said with a laugh...but that seemed to be a bridge too far for his still-fragile body, the amused expression becoming a grimace of pain.

All her annoyance melted away, and Shoto moved off the bed so he could lay back down, though the Ascian seemed almost disappointed.

“Come now, you don't have to move at _my_ expense." He kicked back, and rested one arm behind his head; the other draped across his abdomen.

Shoto watched as he moved to lay down; she wondered why he hadn't just healed himself. The Miqo'te sat back down on the edge of the bed, as she watched him lay himself down, her cheeks still pink. Wasn't he _a sorcerer of eld_ , as he'd triumphantly proclaimed during their battle? His magicks far surpassed anything she could even think of wielding, yet here he was, still vulnerable, still recovering. He was a Paragon, an unsundered being, so why…?

What was he hiding from her?

She was so lost in thought that she failed to notice a quiet, almost timid knocking at her door, and only realized--with a sudden pang of panic that was very much her own--that someone was there when she heard the quiet voice of Angel, breaking the silence.

"Shoto...? I brought an herbal remedy from Chessamile... a-and some food from the Markets."

Her head snapped towards the doorway.

_Twelve preserve me._

She'd completely forgotten that Angel would be stopping by to help her with the bird. To help heal the _gods bedamned shoebill._ The Miqo'te looked back to the Ascian on her bed with a mixture of panic and fury on her face. 

Emet-Selch didn't move, he just looked to Shoto with a smirk on his face. He did, at least, speak in a low whisper, far too soft to be heard. 

Though his words helped nothing in the least.

"Oh my my _my. Well!_ This shall be most entertaining," he said with a widening grin, "Pray tell me, how will you explain this one, Hero?" 

“Shut up!” she hissed.

“A bold strategy, but with very low benefits.”  
  
“Shut _up_!”

Angel's ears backed, then he shifted one forward as he leaned against the wood, trying to listen for sounds on the other side of the door. He could hear movement, and thought he could hear quiet voices, but couldn't make out anything that was said…?

Was one of the other Warriors, or the other Scions, in there with her and the shoebill?

"A-Are you... still awake...?" It felt silly to ask, but he did anyway, as he shifted the shopping bag in his hands. 

The voice that answered Angel was not Shoto's. Shoto did not have a sardonic drawl like that, and this voice was masculine. Masculine and _terribly_ familiar.

“Why, the door is unlocked, dear friend!”

The Miqo'te mage froze; his hand on the doorknob, and his eyes widened. That voice...that voice…! The dark familiarity in it...It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach; one he'd learned to listen to long ago…! He pulled the door open wide.

 _'Who is...?_ ' 

The door clicked open, and for a moment it seemed time stopped as Angel stepped past the threshold, and immediately looked over to Shoto's bed, his eyes locking on…

Him. 

Emet-Selch. 

The _Ascian_.

Angel hadn't recognized the voice immediately, but he knew the face, his jaw dropping in shock, ears pinned back, horror and dread settling into his stomach like a lead weight. Dropping the bag without a second thought, he reached to the side to call forth his mage's staff. 

"Sh-Shoto! A-Are you okay...? H-How is...?!" 

Despite his bravado, his hand visibly shook, and it took him a moment to materialize his cane in a swirl of white light. “G-get away from her…!” he managed--

But...wait.

Shoto had stood, an expression of pure panic on her face, and interposed herself…

Between them…?

“No! Angel, no, no, I'm, I'm fine, it's…” Shoto winced as she trailed off, biting her lip. All her thoughts on how to explain this were both crowding her mind and rendered completely moot as she looked between the still-smirking Paragon and her bewildered friend. “Look. It's, um...You remember the bird, o-obviously, so...You see, the bird...I…”

" _I was the bird_ just to note," the Ascian chimed in with a wave of his hand. 

Angel's tail curled as he frowned, his eyes narrowing in suspicious disbelief. He gripped his cane defensively, but said nothing, looking to Shoto as if hoping for more explanation from a source he trusted. 

The Ascian chuckled a bit, but seemed to swiftly regret it; another grimace of pain crossed his face. "Tch...drat. Well. I guess laughter shall be more painful than usual, for the time being.”

At the Ascian's wince, Angel's ears flickered sharply, and his frown intensified, but his expression was now more...conflicted, rather than defensive. Letting his aether brush against Emet-Selch's, Angel felt the same thing that he had when he'd first looked at the shoebill; the deep, internal wound... only now, he knew the cause. It didn't make any of this easier.

"I-I...I don't understand," he said softly.

"It might be easier to, to have a seat, and I can try to explain in detail," Shoto said, after a long sigh, her expression pleading. 

Angel still kept a tight grip on his cane, and he was still scared half out of his wits. This was Hades, after all, the terrifying sorcerer they'd fought at the heart of Amaurot, a lord of the Ascians… They'd barely beaten him before, as a group... 

But...Shoto's expression was an argument that maybe he _should_ talk. The White Mage nodded silently; and remembering the bag he'd dropped, he hurriedly picked it up...sidestepping in the process towards the desk, which was near the bed, and leaving the bag of herbs there.

Shoto eyed Emet-Selch as they passed him, then hurriedly waved for Angel to follow her to the balcony. Angel nodded as she waved him over, following quickly, and let her pull the doors shut behind her before she seated herself at the small table. Angel dismissed his cane once they were outside, then sat across from the Scholar. 

Once they were seated, Shoto let out a weary sigh, massaging her temples.

"I don't know how I manage to get myself into these situations," the female Miqo'te said, looking to Angel with a half smile, "At least we can talk out here without," she paused, and glanced at the door as she finished, "unwanted ears." 

She looked back to Angel, took a breath, then began to tell him what had happened. "So. He _was_ telling the truth about the bird; it was him. Of course, I didn't realize that until I got back here. He... suddenly shifted his form... after he was on the bed. I was just as surprised as you. Full of fear even. My body didn't want to move, until I saw him doubled over in pain."

Angel's ears stayed pinned as she talked. He didn't want to interrupt her, so he simply nodded to what she'd said so far. Shoto frowned, then looked down at the table in front of her. She sounded upset, and confused. Angel's worried frown remained as she continued.

"And I know, yes, something isn't right. Why did he come here seeking aid and not just heal himself? We both know he easily had the power to do so when we fought him last. I-I know I probably shouldn't have... but... I just... reacted, and I healed him." 

She bit her lip, and clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. Her expression shifted from worried to sad, "I didn't want to watch someone die in front of me again. I've had more than enough of that already." 

Once more, memories of those they'd lost floated before her eyes--and she was gratified to see that, though his ears were still tight against his head, his expression had softened, and he was shaking his head.

"No, I understand... I-I think... I would have done the same. I-I've... also..." 

He shook his head, then flicked his ears out to the side. He also remembered their friends that had left them, but his voice left him at the sudden recollection of his first husband. 

_Taiga..._

How helpless he'd felt then. How much he blamed himself for his death. He honestly couldn't say he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing as Shoto had if it'd been him. He idly fingered the ring on his left hand, when Shoto broke the silence to continue her story...she, too, wanted to move on from the pain of those memories. Her words drew his attention back to the topic at hand; the Ascian in her room.

"I had a vision, from the Echo, as he rested. It's strange...we've never been able to touch the memories of their kind before. I always assumed it was because they were protected by Zodiark..." 

She paused, then shook her head, "He never once tried to attack me or threaten me, even when I was completely in the Echo's thrall. What I saw... was someone dear to him." Shoto decided to leave the part about how she'd passed out on him. 

"When I asked him about the woman I saw, he was...cagey, at first, but then finally admitted that she was his soulmate, back in the times of Amaurot." She left it there. 

Angel nodded, and looked thoughtful. After a moment, it dawned on him what she'd said, then he shifted to face her more directly. "W-Wait... the Echo granted you a vision of an _Ascian's_ past...?" He blinked, then put a finger to his chin, "You're right, we've never been able to... Th-That is... at least... the only thing _I've_ ever seen was when they were involved in someone else's past." 

His tail flicked sharply, and he shook his head again. There was a slightly bigger issue than the odd, unknown intricacies of the Echo. 

"N-Neverrrmind... Th-This whole thing doesn't make sense. W-We can both _tell_ that's rrreally him, so... why... why would he come to those who…?” 

He trailed off, a quiet thoughtful purr following his nervous, purr-infected speech; it was a habit the young Keeper of the Moon had when he was out of sorts or deep in thought. When he trailed off so suddenly, Shoto frowned a little, and looked down to the table.

"Honestly? Nothing has seemed quite...right since that last battle." She fidgeted slightly, unsure exactly how to start explaining what she meant, "I have...or I _feel_ like I've been...having strange things happen around me. I thought it was just after effects of the Primordial Light that we'd housed between us, after taking on the Lightwardens, but..." The female Miqo'te looked back to Angel, "Well, I'm not so sure anymore." 

He tilted his head slightly.

"Wh-What do you mean...?" Angel stuttered, as his tail curled into a circle. Shoto flicked her ears, then moved her hands to gesture as she explained.

"It might sound silly, but... while I was at my house, yesterday, for example, I noticed a vase that I've wanted to put flowers in for a while. I distracted myself with thoughts about how nice a red flower would look in it. I felt like I could picture it perfectly.”

She took in a deep breath. “And then, when I looked back to the vase, a red flower had just sort of... appeared in it. I thought I was going crazy. That maybe it was there all along," she shook her head, "but similar little things like that have been happening ever since...Ever since Amaurot. So I'm not so sure, anymore."

Angel put his hands on the table and fidgeted with his eternity band again.

"I... I don't think it's silly... I talked to Ice..." he shook his head, trying to clear it a bit, "That is... I _trrried_ to... talk to Ice, but... he didn't seem to... get what I meant. He just said he felt strongerrr," Angel took a breath, then folded his hands together to keep from fidgeting as much. 

"Something similar happened for me. A-A small fish... One that wasn't in my aquarium. One that I didn't remember even _seeing_ before. A strange bird on a shelf, when there shouldn't have been any way for them to get in." He flicked an ear, "Small animals, mostly... in odd places. They all seemed... new? I-It wasn't like when I would find strays and bring them in." 

He bit his lip again, and pinned his ears back. There was one other thing he'd noticed, but wasn't sure if it was related or not. It was still too strange not to tell Shoto about it, though. "But... the strangest thing... is that... I swear I keep seeing Tora playing around, but he runs off before I can..." He let his voice die off and shut his eyes, and was quieter as he continued. "I-I know it's an impossible thing, since he was..." Angel stopped, then fidgeted a little. His nervous habit of purring in his speech seemed especially prevalent on this topic, "I'm not completely surrre... if it's rrrelated... but I-I," the male Miqo'te shook his head harder and cut himself off. "N-No. Th-That's not the point... I-I've also been having strrrange things h-happening that I can't account forrr, is what I'm trying to say.”

Shoto's eyes had gone quite wide, clearly surprised and a little elated...as well as worried...that she wasn't the only one these...events...were happening for. When he mentioned the kitten he'd lost, Tora, though, her ears drooped and her expression turned soft and sad with the memory of the poor little thing.

“I understand, I understand,” she said, gently placing her hand on his own. “Honestly, it's kind of...it's kind of a relief to hear I'm not the only one it's happening for! I was wondering if…”

“Yeah, but...Why is it happening, now that we've established it's probably really happening?” Angel murmured, his tail flicking. “It doesn't feel like when, like when my black magic was running rampant. 

A soft, indignant voice whispered coolly in Angel's ears, one only he could hear.

《 _Hey, now. I don't "run rampant"...anymore._ 》

' _Not_ **_now,_ ** _Anubis_ ,' Angel thought in response.

Purring still in agitation, he shifted a little in his seat. 

"...Sh-Shoto... I hate to suggest.... but... do you think... we should... ask...?" The White Mage trailed off, but nodded to the door a little.

' _Should we ask the Ascian?'_ felt like a question he'd never have thought to ask before now... yet, given their current conversation, it felt like the only question he _could_ ask.

Shoto thought for a moment on Angel's suggestion of consulting with Emet-Selch. As much as she didn't like to admit it, he might be the only one who _could_ understand these strange little happenstances. And, as she'd been admitting to herself in the bath, there was a connection...between these odd little events, these flowers and little animal guests, and the memory of the Amaurotine woman the Echo had shown her. The memory of Azem. They _felt_ the same, and they felt similar to the emotions she'd felt flowing from the Ascian himself, too.

There was no guarantee he'd help them, of course. She could always try to remind him he owed her for healing him…? But even if it was a shot in the dark, it was better than nothing. 

And as a side benefit, it neatly put off having to explain the wounded Ascian in her room to all and sundry.

"Well...I don't have a better plan. We can try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heroes finds themselves with more questions and realize the only one to ask is none other than Emet-Selch himself. Stay tune for next week's chapter on Sunday, September 27th. If you are curious on what the characters look like you can see their bios or follow the story with images here: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the Tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	8. Creative Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoto and Angel talk with Emet-Selch, the topic of discussion grants the two Warriors of Light an intense memory. What sort of vision did the Echo show them...?
> 
> The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

Shoto and Angel got up from the table where they'd been sitting. The Scholar peeked into the room as she slowly opened the door…

And found the Ascian was sound asleep on the bed. He _was_ still recovering from his injuries, after all. The female Miqo'te carefully stepped into the room, thought for a moment, then looked back to Angel; he'd followed her inside just as carefully.

"I wonder... Where did he get most of those injuries? I checked for external wounds, and I only found," she frowned as she paused, "...I only found the scar... from where I struck him through…" She trailed off. 

"Were there internal injuries?" Angel asked, frowning. "I-I mean, given--"

"Yes, both Eos and I could sense the internal wounds, but they didn't feel...connected to the last battle," Shoto mused. The two Miqo'te spent a long, silent moment in thought... 

"You're both aware that I am _not deaf_ , correct?" came Emet-Selch's voice, cutting through to interrupt; he sounded more than a little annoyed. Angel gave a squeak of surprise, and Shoto jumped slightly.

"W-well, look, we thought you were asleep, and--!!"

"I might be, but there were two noisy felines just now, mewing on and on," the Paragon replied, opening one eye fully, studying her with it before glancing to Angel and heaving a loud sigh as he shut his eyes again. Shoto pouted and looked away.

"Fine, we apologize for the _disturbance_ . Were we too loud for _Your Radiance_ out on the terrace, too?"

"Perhaps, but the Emperor shall forgive that indiscretion," Hades said with faux imperiousness as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, waving his hand for extra effect. "I'll concede it's hardly fair to chase you out of your own living quarters, and I'm sure at least one of you doesn't trust wicked old me alone in here." He smirked.

"How generous," Shoto grumbled, crossing her arms as she went over to the edge of the bed. "So, you're going to stay awake?"  
  
"For the time being. The night you so generously returned to Norvrandt hasn't settled fully yet, and the evenings here are abominably bright." 

' _From his tone, you'd never guess that he had any role in bringing the Flood of Light about,_ ' Shoto thought, a little bitterly.

"If you intended to ply me with further questions," Emet-Selch continued, interrupting her train of thought, "why, that might help ease my boredom, just a tiny fraction." His amber eyes bored into Shoto, and she felt almost compelled to speak.  
  
"...What did you mean when you said…'eight times rejoined'?"  
  
The Ascian blinked and then gave another overwhelmed sigh, leaning back against the headboard of the bed and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Or, I suppose, you could attempt to ask me a question so stupid it permanently kills me."  
  
"Wh--You--!!"

"Or counts as a form of torture. Aren't heroes supposed to be against torture?"

" _It's a legitimate question!_ " Shoto sputtered in embarrassed fury.  
  
"It's an incredibly disappointing question," Hades quipped back, his own expression disgruntled. "I was given to believe that you understood word one of what I said regarding Amaurot? The Final Days? The Great Sundering, and how our world was shattered into the Source and its thirteen reflections? Yes?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Then ‘eight times rejoined' means exactly what it sounds like it means. There have been seven reunions, what you call the ‘Umbral Calamities', of shards unto the Source. Each time, the soul of those who lived in the time of Amaurot comes closer to wholeness. You are, like it or no, one such soul. Ergo…" He trailed off with a languid gesture.

Angel bit his lip. It couldn't be that simple, could it? 

...Hadn't the Seventh Umbral Calamity been when they first began to really experience the Echo…?

"This time is different," Shoto argued. "Or...it feels different, at any rate! Angel and I have been...causing...things to just, just _appear_ out of thin air!"

"...What?" Now Emet-Selch had a turn at looking surprised. "How do you mean--wait, no--"

" _I mean it like it sounds,_ " Shoto growled petulantly, even if she found she didn't really enjoy the wince on the Ascian's face.  
  
"Alright, alright, I deserved that." The Ascian brought a hand to his chin, fingers partially covering his mouth, in thought. "...I wonder...These appearances, are they linked to intense periods of...concentration?"  
  
"Yes. In both our cases."  
  
"...Curious. Very curious." Amber eyes looked to the floor, then back up to track over both of the Miqo'te before him. "Tell me, when you were traveling... _my_ Amaurot, did you chance to hear about…'Creation Magic', perhaps...?"

Angel almost leapt into the air as he listened to the answer the Ascian gave, and he felt his tail puff up, his ears flickering violently. 

"The...The Bureau of the Architect," he whispered, almost involuntarily…

What he was leading into matched almost perfectly to what the Amaroutine shade at the Bureau had told the Warriors and the Scions when they asked about that same term. 

" _Picture a bouquet of fresh, fragrant flowers, all the colors of the rainbow. Now picture those selfsame flowers formed of delicate crystal, impossibly fragile and radiating hues beyond the visual spectrum._ "

That was, in fact, exactly what they had described to one another, wasn't it? 

A fish he hadn't seen before; but had thought about very clearly; had just appeared in his empty aquarium. A flower that wasn't there; that she could very clearly see in the vase; was then suddenly there. The Keeper of the Moon's eyes were wide as saucers, and his ears pinned back as he realized Emet-Selch was staring at him, had definitely heard his whisper.

"Crrreation Magics...? A-Are you trrrying to say... _one_ soul sharrrrd can make... such... a difference...?"

He trailed off again, staring back at the Ascian, his mouth open slightly in shock.

"It's quite possible," Hades replied. "The Bureau existed _because_ that sort of gift wasn't at all uncommon in Amaurot. Certainly, one needed quite the level of talent at manipulating aether, but we rather prided ourselves on our ability to forge it into a concrete form."

"But…" Angel shook his head, wanting to argue against this...this whole sequence of ideas, even without evidence. "Shouldn't it be the same for all of us, then? I mean, Ice only felt like his soul was...stronger…"

Emet-Selch smirked and arched an eyebrow...his expression was almost kind, or as kind as his smirk got. "Why would it be the exact same, pray? Despite our unity and the commonality of our dress, we Ancients were hardly all identical drones. If that came off as the case, perhaps my re-creation of Amaurot really did err." 

He shrugged. "More than likely, in his own way, your compatriot possesses something similar, but it manifests differently, the way a warrior differs from a magus. In his own way, he was quite observant. If this is, indeed, Creation Magic, it's not some alien power bestowed upon you, you know. You're re-learning it as a result of your soul becoming, well, stronger."

Angel looked down to the ring on his left hand, resting it on his chest. His mind felt like he was caught in a vortex of some kind; his thoughts swirled. He was shaking, he realized.

Amaurot, and the Final Days...The Bureau of the Architect…

His husband's words, and his cheerful smile...

" _Aside from feeling a bit stronger, I don't really feel that different! Sorry to disappoint, Angel, heh_."

His father's, Kohji's voice, harsh and cold…

" _Mages are weak. Worthless. They can't do anything without a warrior to protect them. Are you saying you_ _intend_ _to be weak, boy…?!"_

"...It's like the Echo," Shoto interjected, looking over at Emet-Selch with a bit of a cryptic stare. "Isn't it? The Echo feels like it's always been with us, but it only really awakened after the Seventh Umbral Calamity."

The first time he'd ever felt the Echo, Hydaelyn's voice reverberating in his mind like a crystalline orchestra…

He could almost hear it now…

Hades sighed and spread his arms, a wide-ranging, insincere "who can say???" evident in his gesture. "It's possible, certainly? I can't speak to it being the full truth, dear hero. Our understanding of the Echo is so much different from yours."

_Hear..._

Shoto's lip curled. "This is going to be like when Lahabrea went on about how we knew nothing about it and were worms before him, right?"

_Feel..._

Emet-Selch's eyes narrowed and his smirk became more devious. "Heavens, no. I meant more that we use it for its full and noble purpose, whereas your use of the Echo seems limited to prying into others' personal business."

_Think…_

"Now _see here_ , you--"

Even as he stared at his ring, the room _spun_. His head hurt, suddenly, a violent, piercing pain; there was something like a sound, like a too-tinny bell at the edge of hearing. 

_Speak not the name of the Voidsent_ , _or it shall appear before thee_ ; apparently this applied to the Echo, in truth.

And yet, as he gripped at his forehead, and saw Shoto similarly overcome...Was it his imagination, or was Emet-Selch also…??

There was no time to question. The room in the Pendants disappeared, everything instantly felt distant and muted as though they'd all been suddenly pulled underwater.

* * *

The quiet sound of gentle bells followed a young Amaurotine through the long hallway. The cowl of his robe pulled up, and positioned just so; his white mask precisely centered on his face. The boy's pace hurried to keep up with the far taller people that led him through the Words of Lahabrea, deep within the Bureau of the Architect...the very heart of Amaurot's magickal engineering program. 

The foremost users of Creation.

The only sounds in the wide marble halls were their footsteps, and the rhythmic, gentle bells behind them. The boy, who was distracted from these sounds by the thunder of his own nervous heartbeat, glanced back to the bells, briefly, to find a fluffy, three-tailed mammalian creature, with bright, golden eyes; the soft glow off of its fur indicated this was an arcane creation, no kind of natural beast. It casually hopped along, at pace, back and forth in a zig-zag pattern. 

At last, all of the Amaurotines stopped before a pair of large double doors; their leader, the tallest of the four surrounding the boy, turned to their young companion first, regarding him seriously.

"You are ready to assist, correct, Asopus?"

The boy felt his throat dry instantly, but he closed his mouth, then took a breath through his nose...releasing it, he managed a resolute, calm reply, despite still feeling shaky. "Yes, Chief Researcher Telemachos."

The tall man nodded and went over to the doors, placing his hand on a security mechanism; lines of light quickly flowed across the surface, and the doors opened wide.

The young man squared his shoulders and turned his masked face to look up at the woman closest to him, the one who had asked him here. He opened his mouth to ask her a question…

But no sooner had he done so then there was the sound of clicked teeth from a third member of the four.

"Really, Xene. _This_ is the help we were promised? _This_ is your ‘savant'?"

"Chrysanthos," she shook her head, then took a step forward, "don't start in, especially not now. This concept is very large and very intricate, thanks in no small part to you, and the Concordance reassigned Vaseilos to a pressing matter in the field. As much as you might not--"

"Don't try and make this about him! This is _your_ failure! You said we would have someone of _equal skill_. This," Chrysanthos looked down to him. The white mask hid most of his face, but his tone dripped with contempt and his mouth was a sneer. " _child_ still depends on a Familiar, Xene."

"As though that's proof he's incapable? Faidon, Aristotelis, and Eftychia all delegate a measure of their aether to their own Familiars," she crossed her arms over her chest, "Especially on large, intricate projects where we need the extra willpower. Like this one."

" _They_ are peers of the Bureau, Xene! You haven't even brought us an Akademia graduate, you've brought us Prorektor Apollo's _spare son_!" Chrysanthos snarled. "Need I remind you the cost of errors in this Summoning? If there's even a minute flaw in the concept, it could--"

"That's enough," came Telemachos' calm, quiet voice, the leader sweeping his hand as if to swat Chrysanthos' words out of the air. "Our guest is here to assist, to learn, and to demonstrate why Master Lahabrea favors him, not to serve as linchpin of the summoning. If you must worry about something, Chrysanthos, worry about your own role."

The boy flinched. That was why he was really here, wasn't it? Lahabrea's favor. His father's role. Not his own talents.

Chrysanthos hissed through his teeth but seemed to drop the matter as they stepped into the summoning chamber, Telemachos striding into the center and removing a pair of crystals from his robe, which he slotted into pre-configured places on the altar.

Xene seemed to notice the young Amaurotine's distress, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. You're here because of your own capabilities, not High Speaker Lahabrea's preferences, I promise."

"...I…"

"She's right," another woman spoke up, removing the Conceptual Pattern and Matrix scrolls from a set of filing drawers. "Favor or not, Chief Researcher Telemachos would send you packing if he didn't think you could do it, youngster."

"Artemisia, I'm not sure that's helping him feel better," Xene chided.  
  
"It's a compliment!" Artemisia insisted, giving a small smile to the young man as she unfurled one of the scrolls. "I need him to believe in himself just as much as you do, or I won't get my early lunch." She stuck out her tongue and laughed good-natured even as Xene sighed in exasperation.

"Artemisia…! Augh, she's impossible sometimes. Pray, pay no mind to them. Show them your skill, and even Chrysanthos will be silenced."

He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. He nodded instead, then turned to the altar and its subsidiaries. Telemachos had unfurled the Matrix and now set it on the altar, adjusting the crystals...the pattern of the matrix began to write itself in aetheric light in the engraved magic circle of the summoning chamber. Artemisia unfurled the Plan with a flourish.

"This is the concept we're to create for testing, but the caveat is it has to be perfect upon creation. Can you tell why?" Xene explained, then gestured to the Plan. The boy read over the Concept Plan carefully, as the orange creature climbed up onto his shoulders.

He blinked then looked up to Xene and Telemachos in surprise.

"It's..."

* * *  
"An immortal bird?" Hades repeated as they made their way through the restricted area of the Bureau of the Architect.

Hythlodaeus nodded. "To be precise, it is not a living being, but magick woven in the likeness of a bird. One possessed of puissant healing powers. And as befits a masterwork of the Words of Lahabrea, it is a thing of beauty."

"I don't doubt it. So what, then, is the problem?"

"As I said, it is not a living being. The concept proposed was...well, to give a very basic outline, a magick in avian guise. With this in mind..."

* * *  
The doors opened soundlessly, but the change in light drew their attention. 

Artemisia knelt beside the boy who cowered in the corner. His mask broken into pieces, his cowl torn and around his shoulders. Pale, blue hair was tinged red with blood from visible injuries on his face. His orange Familiar stood defensively before him; it watched the flying bird above them, but it seemed a bit scared. 

The boy was holding his hands over his ears as the fiery bird _screeched_ horribly, then rammed itself into the wall with a sickening sound; the young man flinched visibly each time. 

Artemisia was the one trying to comfort him, the others seemed to be missing. There was debris and destroyed furniture all over, which made it hard to tell who had entered. The woman strained to see around, but recognized the shape of the one Hythlodaeus had called, even as that shape changed and grew, warped to massive size. Her voice seemed relieved when she said his name.

"Hades! Oh, praise the Cycle." she turned to the boy in the corner, "You can breathe now," she reached up to his head, gently. He shook his head and whimpered.

"It's my fault. It's _my fault_. I...I did this, if I hadn't…"

"You did just fine," she softly reassured him. Hades' transformation completed, and Artemisia looked excited to see the sorcerer's full form, "Look now, and see something grand!"

But the injured boy was too frightened to look up, "The bird... H-He... He blames..." 

There was one last, terrible screech, which made the boy cry out in fear. His Familiar turned, and immediately leapt onto his lap. Then all was silent for a moment. 

Hades slowly returned to his normal form beside the highly impressed Hythlodaeus; who was quietly clapping.

"A wonderful first impression from the most eminent Emet-Selch," he teased.

Hades sighed at his friend, "Stop that." He turned to leave, but noticed Hythlodaeus had yet to move. "Is there aught else?"

"I say, dear friend, I think we may now be quite finished…!" 

"Another cre--?" Hades turned, as the dust and rubble finally settled. A softly glowing, orange creature drew his attention first. Then the smaller black-robed figure, being comforted by a taller woman, one of the researchers. For a moment, the High Councilor was confused as to Hythlodaeus' meaning, but then…he saw the dark, malformed creature beside them, the failed Concept that had been hidden by smoke and mist.

It was no bigger than a large canine, like a hound or wolf, but had three heads, and a thick, long tail. It was focused on the taller figure, as it bared its over-sharp fangs, and breathed steam. 

"You'll be alright. We should get you back to the medical ward in Anyder," Artemisia was saying--she put an arm gently around her young compatriot's shoulders. 

The boy jumped, and the canid creature pounced…!

**_Snap!_ **

A sharp sound cracked through the room. Artemisia had turned in time to see the creature nearly take her head off... then vanish with a snap. Hythlodaeus calmly walked over to the boy, then Hades followed to check on the woman beside him.

"Calm, child, everything is as it should be," Hythlodaeus knelt down, then spied the broken mask nearby. He calmly picked it up, then put his free hand on the boy's head.

"Hades," Artemisia said, shakily, "Or, I suppose I should call you Emet-Selch now, hm?" She smiled a little, then stood up. "Thank you for all the help. This was--"

"An accident. I understand. They happen. Though," he looked over to the near-unconscious child, as his friend put his arms around him, "Pray tell, why is _he_ here?"

"His innate skill at creating creatures," Artemisia replied, then looked to where the canine had been only a moment ago. She reached up to her neck, then looked back to Hades. "Since Vaseilos was reassigned, Xene thought we should bring him in to finalize the balance of the summoning. I agreed, because I thought if we could showcase his talent to the rest of the Bureau, they might let go of their prejudices, and Telemachos approved of it, even, so--"

"Does Lahabrea know he's here?"

"Of course he does, he was over-excited to hear that we'd recruited Asopus, he all but insisted we make him part of _this_ particular concept-summoning." She sighed and bit her lip. "I must help with recovery efforts and trying to get the summoning chamber in less of a...state. I beg you, tell our Emissary that his brother performed perfectly well, the accident was _not_ his fault. Master Lahabrea will be pleased with his progress...and I will attempt to calm the others' nonsensical ramblings about curses while he recovers."

"You were very brave, Ambrosia, I'm certain Asopus will give you a treat when he wakes," Hythlodaeus smiled at the little creature as he gathered the slumped, unfighting Asopus into his arms. 

Hades made a face at all the information he'd been given. He nodded in reply to Artemisia, then swept from the room, and followed his friend out to the streets in silence.

Once outside, Hades broke off, then headed back towards the park he'd come from.

"Hmm? Are you off to sleep again?" The question gained no response, to which Hythlodaeus grinned, "Should I inform her of your news on the way to Anyder?" 

Emet-Selch stopped, then glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. 

Hythlodaeus turned to head off, "Go rest, my friend! I'll let Perseph--"

"You'll do no such thing, I can handle that myself," Hades responded with a very deep sigh. His friend had prodded him intentionally and it had worked. He'd go find her and tell her of today's events himself. 

Hythlodaeus chuckled, clearly pleased with himself, and away towards Anyder's medical wing he went, the boy in his arms drifting away from consciousness...and as he did, the vision, too, faded away, the room in the Pendants flowing back into sudden focus.

* * *

When it seemed like the room was stable again, Angel and Shoto opened their eyes, the grip of the Echo loosened. The female Miqo'te shook her head sharply, to clear the aftereffects from the Echo away, causing her teal-flecked hair to bounce in and out of her face. She spied the male Miqo'te, now kneeling on the floor. He shook his head much more carefully... 

Was he crying? The Keeper stopped, then reached up to wipe at his eyes, which confirmed that she hadn't been seeing things. She frowned. How hard had the Echo been on her friend…?

Wait! _Emet-Selch_!

They both immediately looked around the room, only to find that the Ascian was still right where they'd left him, his golden eyes staring sharply at them both, piercingly. Gone was any of his usual affect; the look he gave them was almost that of a lion staring at smaller animals.

"...What did you see?" The question was more or less a demand. 

Angel felt his stomach flip-flop. The Ascian must be furious. That scene had been torn from his memories, after all, hadn't it? 

He bit his lip before he quietly replied, "I...w-we...saw... a young boy," he trailed off a bit, then looked over to Shoto; he was after reassurance that she'd seen something similar. "It seemed like... he was a parrrt of... some sort of... summoning...? I-It was…" 

The White Mage gripped at his robes, up near his neck. He was at a loss of words on what it was they witnessed. The feelings of unease that had come from the boy felt too familiar, more so than just a simple Echo vision; his mind began to wander in the silence. 

《 _Hm~? When was the last time the Echo hit you this hard...?_ 》

Angel stayed silent, but the voice's question was still accurate--when _was_ the last time he felt completely exhausted just from a vision...?

"The Bureau summoned something...Not a Primal, some sort of bird…?" Shoto's words seemed to bring the male Miqo'te back to the present, though he still seemed slightly distracted. He nodded as she continued, "It was supposed to be pure magick, life given to aether, but...something went terribly wrong. It almost felt like Phoenix, and what went wrong...With..."

She trailed off. 

While he did his best to relax his expression, Hades couldn't help how tense he felt at her positive identification of the memory.... The day when young Asopus had first been brought into the Bureau, an attempt to uncover the full depths of his potential. Lahabrea's idea, of course; the Speaker had been practically obsessed with _both_ of Prorektor Apollo's sons.

Poor Asopus. The boy had been talented, true, but he was timid, his skills imprecise, and he was a great ball of unrefined aether. The results had been predictably tragic. By Hythlodaeus' request, he had cleaned up the ugly aftermath of the experiment, and saved the other Bureau researcher from being savaged by a rogue concept summoned from the boy's terror and the still-active matrix. 

How curious that the Echo dredged up that particular memory? Perhaps it was simply an object lesson, he thought, relaxing a little at last. 

"Well, then, I believe I understand what you saw; one of the Bureau's mishaps with the very creation magic we were just discussing. Just as it was commonplace for concepts to be summoned forth, it goes without saying that creation magic is _quite dangerous_ for those who don't properly understand it, hm?"

Shoto simply nodded mutely, and Angel didn't respond; the Ascian let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Perhaps it'd be best if we dropped this particular subject, for now." He glanced curiously over to the nearby bag Angel had brought with him.

Angel followed the Ascian's gaze, ' ** _Right!_** _I brought that here to help!_ ' he thought, as he carefully stood. His ears flicked as he hurried over to the desk, pushing aside some lightheadedness. The Keeper shifted the jumbled sandwiches around, and tried to put the previous topic; and the swirl of confused, violent emotions he was still feeling; out of his mind. He removed the sandwiches that were still edible from their packaging, then pulled out the slightly bruised fruit. Lastly, he pulled out a smaller; now crumpled; bag, and held it out to Shoto as he leaned on the desk.

"It's a few days worth of herbal medicine for a bird, but... it should be about two doses for a person. We could mix it with food or drink or," he looked to Emet-Selch before he continued, "...he could swallow the bitter medicine on its own." 

It was hard to tell if Angel had worded it intentionally or not, but Shoto, at least, knew how much Angel hated bitter things... so... _maybe_ it was just a coincidence. 

The Ascian raised a brow at the mention of food and drink; he didn't know how he felt about the medicine. 

"I'm surprised," he drawled. "So far, that's two Warriors of Light willing to play at being my nursemaid, without anything asked in return. Has my wicked charm really become so devastatingly effective? Aren't you afraid I'll suddenly take the advantage, turn the tables on you?" 

Shoto glared at him with a somewhat serious expression as he said that, and stepped forward, pointing at Emet-Selch. "For _one_ , we haven't said we _trust_ you. For _another_ , you were the one who offered ‘peace in our time', as I remember it, not a little while ago, due to your injuries! And for a _third_ thing, you probably should've taken the time to go after us while we were crippled by the Echo just now, because--"

Emet-Selch laughed and put his hands up, though he seemed surprised, at least a little, at Shoto's vehemence. "Alright, alright, goodness me! You take my jests so poorly, Hero." His shoulders slumped a little and he gave a wry smile, spreading his arms into a shrug again. "I will note for you both that my goal, even now, has not changed. I wish to bring about the Rejoining. But," he added, noticing Shoto visibly tense up further as he spoke, " _do_ calm down. I want to investigate...different approaches. After all, despite the lack of a Calamity and its attendant aether, your souls have been rejoined quite successfully. So I now wonder...what other options might be present, though I still desire Amaurot's resurrection? That's not so terrible, is it?"

"...Hmph. No, I suppose not," sighed Shoto. Hades allowed himself a small smile, which allowed him to hide the growl of his stomach, thankfully audible only to him thus far, though his amber-eyed gaze followed the food without him consciously willing it. Damn this mortality! He was above base urges like hunger!

"I-I can... make some tea... to go with the food," Angel offered, as he carefully handed the sandwiches and fruit to Shoto, then headed over to the little kitchen area of her quarters, still clearly troubled by...everything. 

As he removed the teapot and three cups from the cupboard, that familiar voice entered Angel's thoughts, as he started to prepare a quick, hot tea.

《 _Are you gonna try to ask Ice about this little Echo vision...?_ 》

 _'Anubis_ ,' Angel thought in reply, as he put the kettle on the stove to heat the water. ' _I... I don't know yet._ '

《 _Something felt_ _different_ _that time. I don't think you've had a reaction like someone kicked your kitten before_...》

The voice trailed off, as Angel gripped the hot pad he had meant to set on the counter. 

' _Perhaps... a different... metaphor_ ,' Angel growled quietly, then released the hot pad and shook his head a bit.

《 _Oh, right~... Your 'Stray Problem'_...》

The White Mage glared at the teapot in silence. He chose not to respond to what felt like a pure taunt. The lack of response didn't seem to stop the voice, though. He continued as Angel reached over to get the canister of tea leaves.

《 _...Y'know. The Paragon's right about you being too kind. Too_ _trusting. _ _You take in every stray you find, without ever questioning anything..._ 》

' _S-So...?_ ' Angel fumbled with the lid of the canister. Anubis paused, then spoke a bit coldly, his question heavy with implication.

《 _...Isn't that how you always end up getting hurt...?_ 》

 _"Shut up!"_ The White Mage hissed as he dropped the canister with a quiet clatter. The lid had stayed attached, but he didn't pay attention to that. Angel instantly covered his mouth as his eyes widened; he hadn't meant to respond out loud. 

Shoto had walked over to put a sandwich and one of the fruits on the nightstand for Emet-Selch; she turned her head to look at Angel. The Ascian was blinking and looking at him as well.

"Angel? Is everything okay?" She tilted her head a bit. The male Miqo'te blushed, then uncovered his mouth as he turned his head to reply with a slight nod. 

"Y-Yes. I-It's fine. I'm f-fine," he then turned back to the teapot, hurriedly stuffing tea leaves into the strainer...after a moment of watching this and looking between the two, Hades cleared his throat, deciding upon another change of topic.

"I do hate to pry, but given the current state of my clothes, might I bother you in particular, dear Keeper of the Moon, for any spare clothing beyond this?" He put his head on his palm rather dramatically, glancing to Shoto and affecting a theatrically put-upon tone, though he grinned as he spoke. "I'm aware, of course, that the lady of the house _prefers_ my current attire, but it's so dreadfully exposed, don't you think?"

Shoto growled in her throat and pinched the bridge of her nose as her cheeks flushed red again; she had put out of her mind that the Ascian was still in the bathrobe from before. Ugh. Of course he'd choose to be a pain about it! She looked to Angel herself as Emet-Selch finished the question, the other Miqo'te catching her gaze even as he processed Hades' words.

"Well... I have a... sparrre," he flicked his ears, then shook his head to clear it a bit with a frustrated pout. "I have a _spare_ traveling robe... I-I keep it here, in the Pendants, in case it's too cold," he frowned, "but it's in Ice's and my room... at the other end of the hall." He made a face as he looked to Emet-Selch for a moment, then realized how tall he was compared to him. "I-It's made to reach my ankles, so I think... it would still... be a little _short_ ... on you." The male Miqo'te tilted his head a little, "But it _would_ probably cover you... more... than a bathrobe would?" He trailed off a bit.

《 _An_ **_Ascian_ ** _, wearing_ **_your_ ** _clothes, in_ **_Shoto's_ ** _room...?_ 》Anubis spoke up once more, as he pointed out the problem with this situation; albeit with a slightly mocking mental tone. Angel hadn't thought about that... but he'd already offered. 《 _By the Twelve, Angel... What will_ **_Ice_ ** _think about this_ **_scandalous_ ** _turn of events...?_ 》

A heavy, guilty feeling sank into his stomach, and his throat tightened a bit. His heart pounded a bit faster as he suddenly wondered how he would even begin to explain any of this to his husband. 

The kettle started to boil and interrupted Angel's thoughts with a quiet whistle. He hurriedly turned to pour the water into the prepared teapot, looking away from Shoto and Emet-Selch again. The White Mage was grateful for the sudden distraction. 

After a few moments, Angel carefully brought the tray over to the desk, the three teacups, some sugar cubes, and a small container with cream all placed around the pot in the center. He spoke as he headed over.

"J-Just so you know... Sh-Shoto and I help, because th-that's just... how we arrre." He stopped to sit the tray on the desk to let the tea steep, "You... You knew that... back _then_ ... so... I-I think," he looked back to Emet-Selch and finished his sentence, "..th-that's why we'rrre... _all_ in this mess... _togetherrr."_ His tail flicked, to accentuate his point, even as he pushed aside quiet mental snickering from the voice of Anubis in his mind, and fervently wished he could better quiet his nervous purring habit in times like this. 

Shoto thought for a moment, looking over their Ascian guest herself, who seemed to be digesting Angel's speech.

"Wait. I have an idea." She once more walked over to the armoire from where she'd gotten the fresh linens earlier, and carefully dug around for a few moments before she exclaimed, "Aha! Here we go!"

Emet-Selch's attention drawn, he watched her closely as she returned to him with a folded set of dark-colored, silken clothing, which she held out to him rather proudly. Rolling his eyes for melodramatic effect, his smirk became a genuine wince as he moved to get up, instantly catching the headboard with one hand to steady himself. Without thinking, Shoto immediately moved over to help steady him. 

Her hand braced his arm, and the feeling of _connection_ , that shared aether between her and the Ascian, lit up like a firework. She very suddenly felt his pain; the pain of the wound that radiated through his core. Her ears flattened as she mirrored his wincing expression, gasping with the sudden agony…

And then they had separated again, and the feeling was gone.

"Are you okay…?!" Angel had hurried to her side, all concern for Shoto's well-being; she simply nodded. Hades, too, looked worried...but then his eyes darted to the side, he took the clothes, and he hurried into the bathroom to change. Shoto stood there in a daze, willing the sensation to pass and the room to stop spinning, which it slowly did.

' _There it is again...But I didn't feel this way when the Echo overtook us earlier…? What is this connection…?'_

After a few minutes, Emet-Selch returned, now wearing a black dress shirt, the sleeves short with a bellow accompanied with a simple white vest, and a pair of dark gray dress slacks.

Shoto blinked and couldn't quite help herself from staring at him, her mouth a small ‘o' shape of surprise. She'd picked out the clothing, yes, but she hadn't expected him to look quite so...dashing in this outfit! It lacked the regal arrogance of his Garlean robes; instead it seemed to let him present an almost gentle...confidence... _what was she thinking?!_ Her cheeks red as dragonfire, she quickly looked away.

Emet-Selch raised an eyebrow as he realized she'd been giving him the once-over, but shrugged nonchalantly, deciding to let her off the hook this time.

"It's not my normal attire, but it shall do." He headed back towards the bed, but had to pause once more, as pain shot through his body again after the quick movement. Shoto looked back to him, then shook her head, biting her lip.

"You should lay back down. We can bring your tea over to the bedside." 

Emet-Selch made a face at that; he'd always hated exposing weakness, and there were very few he wanted to show vulnerability to, let alone depend on the aid of. Stubbornly, he trudged back to the bed on his own, then laid back on the bed with visible reluctance as he watched them. 

Angel moved aside to let him pass, and then retrieved the tray of tea; it was well-steeped by now, and ready to serve. He picked up the teapot, and began to pour the tea into the cups before looking to their Ascian guest.

"H-How do you like it?" Angel blushed, then quickly added. "Th-The _tea._ Yourrr... tea." He sat the teapot down before he dropped it, he'd only gotten two cups poured. 

"I will take it as is." Emet-Selch waved his hand at the fuss. 

Shoto nodded to Angel, then picked up the first cup and saucer. She brought them over to the Ascian, and sat them beside the sandwich and fruit she'd placed on the nightstand while Angel was making the tea; to his credit, the Ascian quietly picked up the cup and sipped the tea. He seemed to appreciate it, wordlessly, then began to eat and drink in silence, allowing Shoto to walk back over to Angel. 

She stood with her back to Emet-Selch, and spoke to the male Miqo'te in a low whisper, "We can _not_ let Ice know about this just yet. You know how he'll react," she frowned at the thought.

Angel matched her hushed whisper as he responded with a shaky nod.

"I-I do... He'd be down here in a hearrrtbeat." He flicked an ear in annoyance at his purrs, but was focused on his concern for Shoto. He glanced to Emet-Selch, then back to Shoto, "But I--," 

Shoto shook her head slightly, and immediately interrupted his argument as she continued.

"It's getting late. You should head back." She looked over her shoulder towards the Ascian, "I can keep an eye on him." 

Angel again glanced to Emet-Selch, then back to Shoto; his expression was still worried. The White Mage bit his lip, then pinned his ears back. "...I don't really want to leave _you_ alone with him either. I'd feel _just_ as guilty if something happened to _you_ than I would not telling my husband about what we just _did_." Angel heard the hissed snicker from the back of his mind, which didn't help the tightening knot in his stomach. 

"I understand," Shoto nodded, "but I should be fine. I'd rather not leave him alone." 

As they spoke, Emet-Selch finished his tea, sat the cup and saucer on the bedside table, then cleared his throat. "My thanks for the meal, but while you two conduct your...private business, I'm going to rest. I'll need my strength if I'm to keep up with you two." 

Both Miqo'te jumped at his response, ears perked as if they hadn't heard correctly, then looked directly at the Ascian. Shoto spoke first, a bit of panic in her tone.

"What do you _mean_ 'keep up with us'?!" He lazily turned his back to them laying his head against the pillow.

"Hoh...? I mean what I say. _Someone_ has to keep your decisions from becoming _dangerously_ poor, no? Especially given what we've learned today. On the morrow, dear heroes.

The Ascian yawned and gave a lazy half-wave as he finished speaking, then closed his eyes with a small, triumphant smirk on his face... 

Shoto and Angel both took a moment to process his proclamation-- he clearly meant to _follow along with the party_ in the morning. 

Shoto looked back at Angel, to see the look on his face said he had realized it too.

"Well, I," she gestured to the door, "I guess we should... get some rest?"

Angel curled his tail as he nodded to Shoto, still worried.

"If... If that's," he trailed off and pinned his ears back, "N-Now I _have_ to tell Ice... If only to warrrn him... It would be farrr worrrse if he's surrrprised by _him_ in the morning." The White Mage frowned at the thought, then shook his head a little. He moved to leave, still visibly hesitant to leave her alone. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, then made a face. "Shoto," he turned back to her, "If you need us, forrr anything, y-you know... wherrre ourrroom is... o-okay...?" He winced at the slurred purred words. The thought of trying to explain all of this to Ice without him barreling right back here in five minutes was wreaking havoc on his already frazzled nerves. 

Shoto simply nodded as she opened the door for the White Mage to head back. She gave him as reassuring a smile as she could so he'd feel okay leaving her alone for the night. 

Angel paused just outside the door, "Just please...be safe…" With that, the Keeper headed back to his room, his thought trying to parse far too much from just the last few hours... and still no clue where to start explaining any of it. 

The little voice in his head was not helpful at all in his silent trip up the darkened hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Emet-Selch joined your party without your consent.]  
> Really leave the room?  
> [Leave] [Cancel]
> 
> Stay tuned for next week's chapter on Sunday, October 4th. If you're curious what the characters look like, you can see their bios or follow the story with images on our Tumblr: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the Tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!
> 
> This week we referenced the 4th story of the Tales from the Shadows. If you haven't read the side-stories, and are interested in doing so, you can do so here: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/special/tales_from_the_shadows/sidestory_04/#sidestory_04


	9. Courting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and memories are stirred from slumber, they bubble to the surface during the night. But... how much of it is actually remembered?
> 
> The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies from Angel here, last week and this week are super busy for Xehnis and I fell behind on my editing duties. I bothered Elidibus, but his work had gotten chaotic. Next week should be on time, on Sunday. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding. I'm very sorry about the late posting.
> 
> \--Angel/Shadow

Shoto watched as Angel left the room, before turning back to her bed, her eyes falling upon the sleeping Ascian once more…it was still so strange to see him there, in her bed. She still felt a little light-headed over it. Over...everything.

Well, at least while asleep, he wouldn’t cause any _new_ problems for the time being. She sighed, and curled up on the blue-cushioned, steel-framed bench that extended out from the edge of the bed. Looking out towards the balcony at the last light of sunset, she noticed that the sun had fallen past the horizon, and the sky was full of stars as the day quickly gave way to night…

Her eyelids felt heavy, and a wave of tiredness flowed over her. Glancing back at the bed again, the Scholar noted that Emet-Selch was still in the same position. 

Perhaps it would be alright, for the moment, just to rest… 

Sleep crept in fast; she'd not realized just how exhausted she'd been. As much as she wanted to blame today’s multiple visions from the Echo, she realized that a good, deep sleep had been a rarity for her lately, even without any intervention of mysterious divine powers. As her eyes closed tight, she let herself drift into a myriad of colors and vague shapes…

* * *

She dreamed of Amaurot, in days gone by.

She knew the city almost instantly, the tall and swooping spires silhouetted by the fading light of the sun in some long-ago evening. It was breathtakingly beautiful; she understood Hades’ longing for it, looking like this. How could someone live here and not fall in love with it, at least a little…? She longed for it herself, even; perhaps that was the side effect of the soul-rejoining, of really understanding what they’d lost when this place was consumed by the Final Days.

She sighed, shaking her head, and let herself breathe in the evening air.

...And in so doing, realized she wasn’t in her own clothing; wasn’t fully herself. She was dressed in the long, flowing dark robes of the Ancients, the shadowy cloth looking and feeling softer than silk, a deeply cowled hood pooled around her neck. Reaching up to her face, her gloved hand met the edge of a mask. That clinched it; she was in the body of an Amaurotine.

Running her fingers over the mask, she didn't have enough time to get a feel for its design; this was due to a sudden, soft, familiar voice from behind her, startling her.

“You’re not tired, are you? They’ll be starting soon.”

Shoto turned to see another Amaurotine in long, flowing robes; a man, slightly more than a head taller than her. Silhouetted against the setting sun, he seemed surrounded by a glory of orange and golden rays of light. The effect hid the details of the mask he wore, though it looked familiar...It did not, however, hide the wide, warm smile that crossed his face on seeing her.

(Where did she know that mask from?)

“Come, come, cultivate better stamina, my sweet. You were the one who insisted we had to make it to the Longest Day fireworks!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” she said impulsively, waving off the man’s concern. “ _You_ cultivate not being such a curmudgeon.”

( _Where had that come from…? It seemed like the right thing to say, but…_ )

“I know you like these shows as much as I do,” she added, even if she was a little unsure on how true that was. But her compatriot simply laughed and shrugged.

“Well, I mean, the Convocation worked very hard on all the festivities for this Longest Day. It’s only right we also get to appreciate the fruits of our labor, isn’t it?”

The Amaurotine terms were barely familiar, but Shoto had always loved fireworks, especially big festival displays of them. She had countless, joyful Moonfire Faire memories of simply gazing in wonder at the colored bursts of light and flame, as they danced and crackled across the night sky. 

( _Questions could wait._ )

She took his hand in hers and grinned warmly. “Yes, you’re right, let’s go!”

When his fingers interlaced with hers, she felt something stir within her. An unfamiliar, excited warmth...a genuinely new kind of happiness, different from camaraderie or friendship. Her heart raced, but she felt almost so happy she could burst.

The sky had darkened completely as they made their way through the crowd of Ancients, the lights in the park dimming out as it became night, the stars glittering high in the firmament above Amaurot. Judging by the excited murmuring in the crowd, they’d made it just in time…! 

A single, bright blue firework, blooming like an explosive poppy flower, kicked off the display, and soon there was a rainbow of dazzling colors and shapes as firework after firework went off, reflected in the vast glass windowpanes of the towering buildings and dark spires around the park. Some whistled or crackled or shot out additional projectiles; others simply added to the rhythmic thunder rolling over the plaza.

Shoto felt her compatriot pull her closer, and couldn’t help the giddy smile that beamed across her face, falling into the closeness of his embrace. It was almost, somehow, better than every Moonfire memory at once...she leaned her head into him, savoring the warmth and the comfort in his arms.

She’d never really had...someone like this. Honestly, she envied those of her friends and her fellow Warriors who managed to truly make time for romance, for...love. For her, duty had always come first, and duty kept her on the road, kept her moving forwards, pitched into another battle, another mystery, another conflict. 

The closest she’d ever come was with Haurchefant, those few nights in House Fortemps’ fairy-tale castle, and polluting this dream with the sorrow and despair of that memory was more than she could bear considering, right now. And that had been different; that had been a young love cut cruelly short, a flower torn from the earth.

By contrast, this dream, this strange and wonderful dream from eons past, when the world was young and everything was supposedly perfect and whole, felt like a love that had had time to grow, a sturdy tree in comparison. It made her ache, but it was delightful. 

She almost wished it would never end.

Also, she wished she had any idea who this was, the shadow that she loved and felt so safe beside. She looked up at him again, squinting a little, trying to puzzle out who this was beside her; she didn’t want to resist the flow of the dream, not truly, but...She wished…

Seeming to feel her eyes, he glanced down to her, blinking visibly; in the light of the fireworks, she thought she caught a glimpse of crimson.

“Is everything alright…?”

“It’s just…” Shoto paused, looking into his eyes, struggling to find the words, precisely…”this all seems so perfect.”

Her heart swelled with that nervous, fiery joy again as he put both arms around her waist, pulling her in, his smile only deepening. “It’s my belief that, rather, _you_ are perfect.”   
  
Was it her imagination, or could she feel that same emotion from him, that same...ripple of happiness, that love and ardor, almost as though they were connected…? Almost as though she could…   
  
“You flatterer,” she murmured, smiling, letting herself blush.

“No more than you deserve,” he chuckled in reply. She could see his eyes through the mask now, and they were sparklingly beautiful...a color like gold, or amber, or fire...

Their attention was momentarily drawn back to the fireworks as well as an entire _bouquet_ of brilliant blue explosions, akin to the opener but grouped together and a tiny bit smaller, boomed a violent burst of staccato thunders, the air crackling and shimmering in their wake. That would be the midway point of the show, when they started setting off the most pyrotechnics at one time.

The thrill of the rumbling booms was part of why her heart was pounding, but...no, this was too different to simply be the wonder of the fireworks. Her back fully pressed against her partner now, Shoto leaned back into his embrace. She wished she could simply stay here, in this moment, caught in this dream...she could enjoy this view for a lifetime. 

As the thunder waned, she felt his soft fingertips on the edges of her face, and gasped softly; lightly, he lifted the mask away, his hood shielding the act that she almost instinctively knew was an Ancient taboo, a scandalous thing…!

"I know we shouldn't remove our masks in public," he whispered into her ear, playfully, "but I like seeing your face." As he stood up again fully, his grin was absolutely indecent, but his mirth was genuine and loving. 

“Y-you~!!” Shoto felt the biggest blush she’d ever known spread over her features, but she was laughing; her body moved without much thought on her part. Pushing herself onto tiptoes, she leaned in towards him and yanked at his mask, though gently, playfully. Swiftly, her smirking companion counterattacked. His lips met hers, and she all but melted into the kiss, reveling in the warmth and the gentleness, the only concrete things in the world, their bodies and the mask in her hand.

This mask…

...This crimson mask she knew…

No, it wasn’t just that. She knew those eyes, as well, she realized, as the kiss broke and they gently parted. They hadn’t been a mysterious color--they were the harsh, cold amber they _always_ were. 

The warmth and the gentleness evaporated like mist, replaced by shock and fear, her face going slack as she realized that she knew, too, the softly illuminated face of her lover. The high cheekbones, the too-pale skin, the dark lips. The only difference was his hair was all one color, all white, but…

This was the very same man who laid sprawled out in her room at the Pendants.

“Persephone…? Whatever is wrong…?”

( _This is not my dream.)_

She knew he could feel the waves of confusion and fear coming off of her; she saw Hades’ expression change to worry. Her voice cracked.

“Emet...Selch…?”  
  
( _This is not my dream.)_

“Why are we...falling back upon my title…?” 

And then his eyes sharpened in comprehension and shock.

“ **_You._ **”

_(It never was.)_

* * *

Shoto's eyes shot open, and she sat up, her heart pounding...she was back on the bench in her room at the Pendants. 

_What_ _was_ _that?!_

...She understood on an academic level. She couldn’t not--this was the same as the Echo’s vision earlier. A dream of the woman he’d loved, his soulmate...Azem, or Persephone, whichever her real name was--the other, she supposed, must be one of the Amaroutine titles, the way “Emet-Selch” or “Lahabrea” was.

But...that dream had felt so real, and so personal. So much like she was there, like it was _her own experience_! 

Even if it couldn’t be.

She felt shame and guilt at intruding upon what had to be a beloved memory from his long-ago paradise, and yet she also felt anger at feeling shame or guilt. She hadn’t asked to have that dream…! Nor had she asked to experience the kind of love that just remembering gave her a heartache…!!

Why had it happened…? The only other time the Echo had intruded on her sleeping mind was back when her body was wracked with the Primordial Light, and she’d had those visions of G’raha...could this all be another side-effect of being rejoined?

...There was only one person who might know.

As much as she didn't want to, Shoto knew she would have to go talk to _him_ ; to the same man whose memories she’d just invaded. Her eyes flicked over to the Ascian; he still hadn’t moved, the ebb and flow of his breath the only evidence he wasn’t a statue.. She gave a long breath out, tried to calm herself, and then stood to go over to--

"I was starting to wonder when you’d come over here." 

The sudden sound of his voice made her jump, and her tail fluffed up a little. Shoto pinned her ears back; she slowly walked the rest of the way over to the edge of the bed, then sat on the end of it. Hades rolled over on the bed to face her; his golden eyes shifted their gaze.

“By all means, _hero_ , don’t feel obliged to sit so far away!” A smirk crossed those familiar, dark lips. “After all, didn’t you just _kiss_ me?”

He’d seen. He’d seen, he’d seen, he _knew_ ! Heat and shame and anger rose in her cheeks, scarlet and painful, and here he was breathing a sardonic laugh.   
  
“I was right,” he said smugly, arching an eyebrow. “I _knew_ I recognized you...now, I dare say, you have some nerve, don’t you? First, you go rummaging around in my memories. Now you’re invading my dreams, as well?”

Shoto shook her head and went to stand back up, her fists clenched at her sides. “I-I’m _sorry_ !! I didn’t want this, I don’t know how it happened…!! Either time!! I didn’t mean to, to _inhabit_ her…!”

Emet-Selch blinked, and it seemed like his gaze softened somewhat. Sighing, he shook his head and sat up more fully, his hand gently moving to her shoulder before Shoto could fully rise, making her gasp a little and keeping her from standing.   
  
“Calm down, calm down. It was a jest, I’m not angry, dear Warrior of Light.” He was regarding her with curiosity again, more than anything; his golden eyes seemed almost to be searching inside her, although he gave no sign he was doing anything more than looking at her. “...Inhabit her, you said? Why use that turn of phrase?”

Shoto shook her head, still trying to calm herself. “It...it’s what I think must be happening,” she half-blurted, half-murmured. “The Echo’s done this sort of thing before; when a soul is similar enough to ours, or our emotions about them are strong enough, we’ll glimpse their memories. It happened with Yotsuyu...the Exarch…” 

“I see, I see.” Hades chewed his lip a little, then shrugged widely. “I suppose it’s not an unlikely explanation...there _are_ similarities between the two of you.”

“...We…” the Scholar muttered, looking at the floor, feeling her cheeks flush red, then flicked her ears as she glanced embarrassedly back up to Hades. “We both really love fireworks, at least.”

It was the first time, she thought, that she’d heard the Ascian genuinely laugh; an actual laugh, not a sardonic chuckle, no acid in it. 

“Hahaha! Ah, quite an important shared quality, yes,” he said as he finished, brushing back his hair from his eyes, “among other things.”

Quite suddenly, she remembered a detail of what Hythlodaeus had said in the Tempest...that the color of Shoto’s soul would be familiar to Emet-Selch. Could that be another similarity he could see…? She almost wished she had that capability, to glimpse the colors of others’ souls; it must be like the world was filled with fireworks.

“I wish I knew why it came on so strongly, so suddenly,” she sighed, shaking her head and kicking at the ground a little. “It’s not predictable, but…”  
  
Hades shrugged again, smirking this time as he gestured widely. “Like as not, it’s another side effect of your soul’s rejoining with this shard’s reflection...especially given that it’s connected to memories of Amaurot, where you were complete.” He tilted his head to the side. “Come to think of it, your dear little friend...Angel, was it? He’s not usually prone to being so profoundly struck by the Echo, now is he?”

Shoto blinked and nodded. “...So it might be happening to...everyone.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” His lips quirked. “Ironic, really. You Warriors of Light so _despise_ us Paragons; yet, in the end, we’re very much one and the same, no?”

Her mouth fell open a little, and she wanted to argue, but...he was right, wasn’t he? Their souls had been absorbing the lost shards of themselves with every Calamity; their powers growing each time the world was Rejoined. Sure, up until now, they hadn’t traversed between worlds, but...whether by initial accident or no, traversing between Norvrandt and the Source was almost routine for them.

...Were they all...Ascians?

Emet-Selch might’ve kept going on, but another wince of pain cut off his words. Concerned, Shoto moved closer to him, raising a hand over his abdomen and invoking her aether to try and re-examine his internal wounds; nothing had re-opened, but the internal damage hadn’t healed very much…

Traveling with him might just make this worse, despite his determination, mightn’t it? She frowned and squinted a little, her ears flicking and her tail lashing. A thought crossed her mind: ' _If I'm truly stronger, can’t I do more now? If my soul’s been strengthened, surely Eos and my healing magicks are stronger, too, right…?_ ' 

She shifted on the bed, moving to place both hands over his abdomen; Hades saw her motion, and he weakly raised an arm to try and dissuade her.

“Hero, no, don’t try it. This is nothing. I--”

Almost involuntarily, out of her aether coalesced a familiar, diminutive shape, a luminescent creature of shining moonstone-hued light, glowing a soft greenish white and trailing sparkling particles with every movement; the tiny, feminine form of Eos flew into the Ascian’s face and wagged her extremely small finger at him. Despite her small size, the faerie’s expression was chiding enough that Emet-Selch was forced to lay back, rolling his eyes. 

(Well, the fae folk’s powers here on Norvrandt were _quite_ potent. She wouldn’t want to upset them either.)

“Just...be careful…”

Shoto grinned at Eos, and the two set their hands over the injured area together, the faerie’s moonstone light merging with Shoto’s aether into a glow of orange-yellow hue, spreading out over Hades’ stomach and flowing softly into him. The Ascian let out a soft gasp as the odd warmth spread fully over the area of the injury; he could feel their shared aether mending the tissues, speeding the healing. Shoto’s eyes shut tightly, and she healed almost as if in a trance, Eos gladly lending the Scholar more and more of her power.

It was beyond her normal limits, beyond any single working, but she pushed past it. She wanted to fix this. She’d caused it, hadn’t she? It _had_ to be her that fixed it. She’d never healed this much at once, but she hadn’t been this strong before.

 _Please. You_ _must_ _be careful. Don’t overwork yourself, please, it’s not worth it..._

This was a strange thought; it wasn’t her own, but it wasn’t from Eos, nor Selene, from someone more remote, like Feo Ul, either. It seemed familiar, but...the Seeker of the Sun pushed it aside and continued to work, Eos keeping up with her, the Miqo'te Warrior of Light feeling an almost giddy sense of confidence. 

She could do this. She could fix it…!

The alien thoughts urging her to stop gained urgency, almost trying to sap her will. _You have to stop! You’ll completely deplete your store of aether, on, on this…!!_

It almost redoubled her determination, a stubbornness filling her alongside her thrill at pushing past her limits. The voice could just hush! Eos would let her know if she was going too far, wouldn’t she? And so far the faerie seemed as eager to help as Shoto was to keep going, despite the sweat beading on the Miqo'te woman’s brow.

' _I can_ **_do_ ** _this, why are you such a worrywart?_ ' she felt herself think, though she wasn't sure why she replied that way. If she just pushed a little...further…!!

Her vision swam, and the flow of aether stopped, but it was because...she’d done it.

She’d healed the wound they’d given him; the battle in the Tempest would now only be a small scar upon his torso, if even that. She’d made it, all at once. Eos shimmered happily in her ear, though the faerie sounded a little fatigued; Shoto let her concentration break and her eyes opened, unable to stop the excited smile that spread across her features as she looked to Hades...well, excited and a little smug.

For his part, the Ascian was looking at her intently, yes, but...he almost seemed more concerned than previous.

“By Zodiark,” he grumbled, “you’re also akin to Persephone in your _stubbornness_. Really, you should’ve stopped when I first asked, dear hero.”

Shoto stuck out her tongue. “What do you mean? I’m fine, look,” she said, standing up to make her point and spreading her arms wide. “See, I’m f...I’m…”

A tsunami of sudden fatigue hit her, and she dropped, almost boneless, her vision wavering. Her knees buckled beneath her and the floor rushed up to greet her! But she felt no impact; the Ascian she’d been ministering to reacted swiftly, and caught the foolish Seeker in his arms before she fell too far, sighing heavily once more...oh, hells. The voice had been right after all. Her aether was spent; she couldn’t rise from his arms if she wanted to.

...Though, she thought, it wasn’t so different from what she’d done for him in the Ocular, was it?

It was her most coherent thought before a chill overtook her small form, and she shook. Hades was shaking his head at her, grumbling. "So foolish..." Emet-Selch watched the flow of the woman’s aether carefully; it cycled still, slowly, despite its sudden and violent depletion. Well, at least she wouldn’t die from this little stunt. " _Must_ you mortals always be so _reckless_?" he sighed.

Picking her up fully, he turned back to the bed and pushed aside the blanket. He had seen this before, in Amaurot: if one used too much of their aether at once, then aetheric exhaustion obviously followed. However, as long as they didn’t burn out their aetheric core, empty their soul, the afflicted would normally recover within a couple of days...which was likely what would happen here. It had been one of the most common admission criteria to the Anyder’s medical wing... everyone had to learn their limits, and some were just too stubborn to listen.

Shoto's body felt physically cold, and her faerie had returned to her before she dropped; her aether’s flow was now, rather than aiding her body’s regulation of heat, debilitating it, the sluggishness slowing down her natural rhythms. The poor Miqo'te began to shiver and shake, and the Ascian knew blankets wouldn't be enough to keep her from becoming hypothermic while she recovered. 

Well, magically, he could do little and less; the average thaumaturge might be of as much use. But maybe...after a moment of staring at her face, he resolved himself. Moving to sit on the bed, settling her against him, Hades grabbed the blanket and tugged it over them both, keeping her tight against his body; sharing his own body heat with her, like one might do for a freezing mountain climber. Shoto looked up weakly; it was comforting and warm in his arms, but she seemed confused. The one called Emet-Selch looked up and away from her, almost resting his chin on her head as he sighed again.

"Don't make a fuss over this, now. It's only fair to help you in the same manner you helped me."

She whimpered, but she acquiesced.

...it was so strange. A Warrior of Light and a Bringer of Chaos, resting together in the same bed. Mortal enemies, their ideals and their dreams completely incompatible. Fighting for two different futures in a pitched battle of life and death, with literally millions of other lives on the line.

And now…

...He could tell she was questioning her resolve from back then. 

“Why…? Why does…it hurt…? My…my heart…? I don’t… understand…” Shoto murmured as her eyes fell shut, too exhausted to fight the urge to sleep any longer; she decided to trust him, and let herself relax against him, head falling onto his chest.

Emet-Selch sighed again as he looked back down at her, his own heart aching a little as his lips quirked again, just slightly; he let his own head lean back against the pillows propped up behind him.

And he, too, thought back on the final battle in the Tempest. When he had called upon his full glory as a sorcerer, his unleashed Shape. It should have been enough to destroy all of them in one fell swoop, Blessing of Light or no…

No. It _would’ve_ been enough. If he’d let Zodiark’s power flow through him, if he’d drawn on the full might of the God and the void in which He rested, they would’ve been torn apart. So why had he delayed…? Why had he let them draw him into a dance of battle, a drawn-out dying gasp? Why let himself get muddled, and confused, and…

...He knew the answer. Broken though she was, as far gone as she was, she’d still fought. They’d all fought so hard, and he...he couldn’t bring himself to simply crush her. Not her. The hope that she could still be saved had been like leaden weights on his limbs, and every moment they defied the inevitable he’d felt his own resolve shaken to the foundations..   
  
_“Behold a sorcerer of eld! Tremble before my glory!”_ He’d half-hoped they’d throw themselves to the ground in surrender, even as he knew it was empty bravado. 

And now...even barely spending a few hours among them, they all seemed…so much more vibrant, and that much closer to wholeness. That much closer to completion. More like people he’d known, not just “the shattered”. Especially in her case, in Shoto’s case.

“ _Go forth._ **_Conquer_ ** _. Rip their unearned gifts from their flesh and return to the Tempest stained in blood and righteousness, and you shall be whole again, a Paragon once more._ ”

...Those words, which were meant to be his inspiration, filled him with dread, instead. He looked down at the Miqo'te woman shivering in his arms, and pulled her closer until she stopped. He couldn’t even think like that, when it came to her. He wanted...he _needed_ to protect this woman.

...What a fool he was. If she was questioning her resolve, he’d halfway abandoned his own. He sighed once more as he shut his eyes, grumbling to the non-present Elidibus.  
  
“Easier said than done, Emissary…But I think you probably know…” Shoto still cradled in his arms, the Ascian drifted off into slumber.

* * *  
Yuki hurriedly walked up the darkened hallway into the Pendants’ sprawling apartment complex, carrying two large bags from the Markets in her arms as she headed for her quarters. The white-haired Viera stopped just a few doors down from it, underneath one of the lights between rooms, and turned to check on her compatriot, a familiar violet-haired Miqo'te. 

He hurried to keep up with her pace, but he'd been noticeably slowing down over the course of the evening. She frowned as she watched him shake his head for the fifth time since they had eaten dinner; she'd hoped that he might just be hungry, since breakfast was the only substantial thing they'd had all day, and it had seemed to work for a short time, but then, in the Markets... 

They’d both purchased new coats for their trip into the Tempest, and each picked out a gift to cheer up Shoto, but Sumire seemed worn out after just buying his own coat. She asked him if he was okay, but he would just flick his ears, smile, and tell her he was fine.

"Sumire, if you were that tired, why didn't you say something after dinner?" Yuki spoke quietly, as she didn't want to wake anyone that might be asleep already. He jumped a little at her voice, then hopped to reset his pace, and hurried to her side.

"I just," he fidgeted with the bag in his hand, "I wanted to... finish shopping with you, Yuki." He looked up as she gave him a sigh and shake of her head.

"You seemed so much better once we'd eaten."

"I was!" His ears perked, "That is... I thought you were right. After we had dinner, I felt more alert. I could think straight, and I didn't feel like I wanted to go to bed at all!" He blinked, then reached up to cover his mouth as he realized what he'd admitted. 

The Miqo'te looked away, as the Viera's expression grew even more disapproving.

"So you _are_ feeling sick," she half-shrugged, as she couldn't quite cross her arms with their purchases in her hands. 

"Not sick," he corrected her quickly, then frowned. "I don't feel sick. It's not an illness. I'm just... tired."

"Sumire, we haven't done all that much that should be so exhausting... Not one Echo, not one surprise visitor, not one fight. Today was just travel and shopping."

" _Yuki_ ," Sumire tried, but couldn't say anything more.

"We're supposed to head out to Eulmore tomorrow," she sat the bags down, then reached to pinch his cheeks.

"Ow!" He pulled back, then rubbed at one cheek with his free hand.

"I don't want to have to work twice as hard to keep you awake on the boat from Lakeland."

"Y-You won't have to watch over me like that, Yuki! I'll be fine with some sleep!" He frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest, then looked further down the hall.

"Just... promise you'll tell me if something's wrong with you, okay?" She uncrossed her arms, reached down to pick up the bags, then turned to continue the walk back to their rooms before he could actually answer her. 

Her tone was concerned; even, perhaps, a bit scared. The last time she'd sounded like that was just before they had gone to Eulmore to find the last Lightwarden, which just made him feel bad. His tail curled towards him as he frowned, then moved to follow her. _Was she really_ **_that_ ** _worried about him...?_

"Y-Yuki, wait for..." He trailed off, as he saw something flicker further down the hall. Yuki had seen it too.

"What is that?"

"Some kind of orange light?" Yuki didn't respond to his obvious response, her ears twitched.

"That light is near your room, Sumire," she lowered her voice. He blinked, then stared ahead to the little, bouncing light. After a moment of bobbing back and forth, it began to move towards them; a very faint sound of quiet bells echoed briefly. Yuki took a defensive stance, but Sumire felt confused... wasn't it too small...?

"Yuki, I-" he began, but she stepped in front of him.

"You're tired, let me handle-" she stopped as the light drew closer. Her defensive stance dropped, and she seemed more confused than anything, "...a cat...?"

"A cat...?" Sumire stepped out from behind Yuki, then frowned as he looked at the orange cat that sat before them in the middle of the hallway. 

This close, the glow didn't seem so obvious... but Sumire's right eye could see it.

"I wonder who it belongs to?"

"Yuki," Sumire started. She turned to look at him, then noticed he was staring at the cat. "The cat is made of aether."

"What do you mean?"

"When I look at the cat, it reminds me of what I see when I look at your Carbuncle... It's not like when I look at a normal animal or another person," he explained, though he sounded a bit confused.

Yuki asked the question he didn't voice, "Who would create an aetheric creature in the shape of a _cat_ , though?" She shook her head, that didn't quite feel like the right question, "...rather, _why_?"

The cat stood, then turned to walk back up the hall. It stopped a few paces in, then looked back to Yuki and Sumire. The two looked to one another, then back to the cat.

"Well... it is going back towards our rooms... and it's not like we weren't going that way _anyway_ ," she started down the hall again, "Right, Sumire?"

"....Y-Yeah," he mumbled, as he followed.

As they made their way up the curved hallway, they passed Shoto's room. Everything was quiet, and there were no lights from her room; she must be asleep. The two hurried onward, but the orange cat they had been following disappeared around the bend with another quiet bell sound.

"That's past even my room," Sumire said quietly.

Yuki tilted her head, "Only one past your room is," she trailed off, then looked back to the Miqo'te, who also realized it.

"Ice and Angel," they said together, then hurried forward.

As soon as they rounded the bend, they saw the figure sitting on the floor, slumped against the railing. Yuki put her bags near Sumire's door on her way to check on the figure. Sumire dropped his bag beside them, then followed slower. He recognized the aetheric signature before he could see the blue-tipped tail of the Miqo'te that Yuki was checking on. He bit his lip, then continued on to their room to knock on the door.

"Honestly, _everyone_ needs so much looking after," Yuki sighed, as she learned that Angel wasn't injured or sick, but he hadn't quite made it back to his room before he fell asleep. She did notice that he looked like he'd been crying before he fell asleep in the hall, so she wondered what happened after he'd met with Shoto.

" _Ice... Arrre you... therrre...?_ " Angel mumbled, as Yuki gently tried to wake him. His ears pinned back, and the Viera sighed. She looked over to Sumire, as Ice opened the door, curious. He knew Angel wouldn't have knocked. Ice didn't get to ask what was going on, as Sumire spoke as soon as he made eye contact.

"Ice, I think Angel might need a bit of help," he gestured to Yuki and Angel. Ice looked confused, until he followed Sumire's gesture. The Warrior said nothing, then hurried over to his husband.

"He is now, Angel." Yuki responded, quietly. Angel managed to open his eyes about halfway as Ice knelt beside him.

"Angel, are you okay?" The mage smiled weakly in response, then leaned forward enough to land his head on his husband's shoulder. Ice didn't wait for his reply, and scooped him up in his arms.

"Did... you get this outfit... at the Marrrkets...?" Angel purred. Ice wagged his tail and smiled; even as sleepy as he was, Angel had noticed a difference. It made him feel happy. 

"I did," he grinned, then looked down to his tired husband. He felt him shaking a bit, and he didn't lift his face from his shoulder.

"I like it on you..." Angel's ears flicked, then he nuzzled against Ice's shoulder. His tenseness noticeably relaxed as Ice held him. The Warrior turned to look at Yuki and Sumire. He could see Sumire was almost at the same point Angel was; the Dragoon flicked his ears and rubbed at his eyes as he waited for Yuki. 

The Viera crossed her arms, huffing, and looked to the mage. She, too, was reminded of the time just before Vauthry.

"Are we _quite_ certain he and Shoto don't discuss stupid ideas together when they're left alone?"

"Perhaps we should all head to bed and rest. I guess it's been a longer day than I thought." Ice nodded to Sumire, and Yuki blinked before she turned to see the Dragoon trying not to do the same thing Angel had clearly done; he was still very tired.

"That's probably for the best, it seems." She turned, then went over and pulled Sumire onto her back in the same way she'd pulled Shoto a few times before. 

"Y-Yuki!?" The Dragoon protested, but she shook her head.

"Quiet, Sumire. If nothing else, I'm going to make sure you make it to your bed," she turned to look at Ice, "You make sure Angel does too."

"Don't worry," Ice responded, though he still felt confused about it all. "We'll see you in the morning before we head out."

Yuki nodded, then headed off to Sumire's room first, intending pretty clearly to _throw_ him on his bed so she could get back to her own room. Sumire looked apologetic, but lacked the strength to fight with her right now. Ice looked down to see Angel was still awake against his shoulder.

The White Mage mumbled quietly, "You..."

"Hm?"

"...You... smell nice... too," Angel mumbled, and Ice thought for a moment. Something was wrong with his husband; his voice sounded a bit... sad?

Ice turned to head back to their room as he heard Sumire's door up the hall close sharply. "C'mon, let's get you into bed."

He dreamed of Amaurot, at the end.

They were running. There was nothing but to run; the only thing that seemed to matter was that they kept holding each other’s hand, sprinting desperately through the flame-shrouded streets of the Capitol. Smoke and dust choked the air with a foul miasma, but they couldn’t block out the screaming.

The screams of the dying. The desperate pleas for help from those no one could help. And then, worst of all, the inhuman shrieks of the invaders.

The abominations their own fears had called into being.

His wrist was sharply tugged as his Azem lost her footing, stumbled. Out of the smoke, a horror saw its chance, whirling, its fourteen lynx-like eyes fixing on her. A pincer-shaped mouth that seemed endless, filled with rows of needle teeth, cracked open, was birthed from a sudden, drooling line in its rubbery flesh--the maw opened wide--

“HADES!!”

He spun like a dancer, swords of vermillion crystal and baleful arcane energy spinning themselves into being from the air. Without mercy or hesitation, he impaled the monstrosity with twenty of them, slamming the abomination into the ground, vermillion crystal mingling with thick crimson blood.

“Persephone…!! Are you, are you hurt--”

“I’m alright,” she panted, sobbing, tears running down her cheeks; but she held out her hand, and he pulled her up, pulled her close to him. He glanced around them...whatever route he’d been following, he’d lost. There was nothing but a sea of fire and screams. 

There was nothing but endless running, but run they had to. Amaurot was dying.

Everything was dying.

“Hades…”

“I’ll protect you, my star,” he whispered. “I’ll always protect you.”  
  
She whimpered, threw her arms around him…

And he was alone, standing in a violet-lit council hall of bleached white stone, in an empty, lonely place of desperate refuge.

Well...not alone, no. The other members of the Convocation were there, their red masks made harsher by the pale, merciless light of this place.  
  
All the other members of the Convocation...save two.

“Even if what you argue is true,” Igeoryhm was saying, “she was still a member of this council! She deserves respect and veneration, as much as anyone! It’s not as though she wished for the Final Days--”

“She might as well have!!” Lahabrea snarled. “I will not waste MY aether, nor the aether of any other _loyal_ member of our Convocation, to craft a memorial for one who **_abandoned_ ** us in our hour of need, to gallivant amongst the lesser beings, like a fool…!!”

“Speaker _Lahabrea_ !!” The voice of Pashtarot rose in both outrage and horror. “We are all aggrieved, but please! Let us have _decency_ , still! You know what she was to Lord Emet-Selch…!”

“The illustrious Emet-Selch can surely put his personal feelings aside,” Nabriales began, his voice oozing with oily praise for both Hades and the furious Lahabrea.

Igeoryhm bridled, but it was Mitron who spoke. “Ever the worm, Nabriales,” he spat derisively.

“Why, you--”  
  
“Here we go once more!” Fandaniel broke in. “Round and round, like puppets in a gallery!”   
  
Lahabrea’s eyes flashed. “If I will not countenance wasting aether on Azem, I will countenance even less wasting breath on your _mad theories--_ ”

“ **_Enough!!_ **” came Hades’ voice, his hand slamming the table, a raw fury in his breast. He was so angry part of the stone crystallized, and the others fell silent. Gold eyes moved over all of them as he forced himself not to tremble at all, not to show any weakness.

“This bickering is _pointless_ ,” he ground out. “I’m sickened by it. Put it to a vote, if you must. A _silent_ vote. I’ll abide by the ruling, for good or ill. We have other concerns.”

Igeoryhm spoke quietly. “...Are you certain, H--Lord Emet-Selch?”

“Completely.” He shut his eyes. “We must preserve what Zodiark has won us. At any cost. There’ll be time enough later to remember all of the dead...”

_Forgive me, Persephone. Wait a little longer. I won’t let you languish in the Underworld…! I’ll definitely…_

He opened his eyes, and he was in the Imperial Palace, in Garlemald, its vast, high-vaulted ceilings lit by veins of ceruleum and by magitek artifice.

Crude magitek artifice. Worthless. 

Allag had been somewhat primitive, by Amaurotine standards, but impressive--a medieval empire, yet something he could be proud of! At least, until the puppet he’d been using to increase their influence and power let everything get to his overly muscled head, tore open a rent to the Thirteenth somehow, and...ugh. What a waste.

But Garlemald? 

It was barely worth anything even as a tool. It was like living in tents on an open plain. And here they thought themselves masters of the universe. What an awful joke. He’d abandon it as a bad experiment, except the alternative was even worse.

Varis was there, staring at him with those mud-ugly eyes. Like a cow’s eyes, a beast’s eyes. How he hated them. How he hated looking at this flawed thing he’d let himself make.

“Why do you hate us so, grandsire?” The question was tremulous, stupid, but it stung.   
  
He had an inkling it was his empress’ more than it was this child’s…!

“...Your body,” Emet-Selch, called Solus yae Galvus, ground out, and swept from the room, closing his eyes in exasperation and forcing down the guilt.

_How worthless this existence is without you, Persephone._

_I won’t give up hope. I’ll find you. Some piece of you. And then the Rejoining will bring you back._

_It_ **_must_ ** _…!_

He opened his eyes, and everything hurt.   
  
He was in Amaurot again, but the sky was so far away. Even the buildings seemed ephemeral.

A great axe of concentrated Light was driven through his chest, piercing his heart and his aetheric core. 

He was dying.

He pushed back the hood of his robes, looked his killer in the eyes.

“Remember us,” he said. “Remember that we once lived…”

“But I knew you lived, Hades,” said the soft, sad voice of Persephone.

Yet her face was not her own, and her tear-stained eyes were framed by feline ears, and dark hair tipped with streaks of teal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Warriors all seem exhausted this evening. Will anyone else have strange dreams...?
> 
> Stay tuned for next week's chapter on Sunday, October 11th. If you're curious what the characters look like, you can see their bios or follow the story with images on our Tumblr: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can also find some side stories involving the characters that we write at times on the Tumblr. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	10. Echoed Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice helps Angel relax in their room after the White Mage's vivid Echo knocked him for a loop. Yet, even after he falls asleep, the Echo seems determined to show him things...
> 
> The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:
> 
> •Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempt  
> •Suicidal Thoughts/Ideations  
> •Blood  
> •Mental Illness
> 
> Poor Angel has a bit of a hard time in this chapter, and none of us want to transfer that hard time to you, the readers. While we added general tags to the work proper, we feel it's best practices to warn directly the chapters in which potentially triggering material appears, and will keep to that going forward.

Ice glanced in the mirror for the third time in the last hour. He was excited; he felt proud of the new outfit he'd gotten at the markets, and he kept wondering what his husband might think of it when he got back from Shoto's room. Ice would've _sworn_ he'd heard Angel's footsteps approach their room at least twice, but whoever it was hadn't come in, or even stopped by the door. 

He'd bought dinner from a stand in the Markets, and along with it he'd made sure to buy some snacks and treats to restock their cupboard, as well as another canister of tea, and some new sugar; none of it had yet enticed his husband home, though. The blonde Miqo'te sighed in the silence; he could tell from the fading sunset out the window that it was getting late, and he felt a bit worried.

No, no, it had to be nothing--Angel was stronger than all that, and surely he was just engrossed in helping Shoto with the injured shoebill, he thought, chasing away his gnawing doubts. A smile spread across his face as he imagined the scene; the two healers did tend to get deeply engrossed in their task, nearly to the point of obsession...

His ears twitched as he caught a quiet, soft bell sound in the hallway, followed immediately by the familiar voices of Yuki and Sumire, and his expression became one of mild surprise, then recognition.

"They must be coming back from their shopp--," Ice trailed off as he realized, looking to the door, that he was seeing something...

The diminutive form of an orange house-cat, stretching its back out and turning its head to look at him.

He stood motionless for a moment, save for blinking twice...but on the second blink, the cat was gone, no sign of him left. Ice shook his head, trying to clear it. What had that--

There was a loud knock on the door, and Ice's back stiffened; _Angel wouldn't knock_.

The Warrior hurriedly opened the door, and on the threshold he found Sumire; the violet-haired Seeker of the Sun spoke as soon as he made eye contact.

"Ice," he took a half step to the side, "I think Angel might need a bit of help." The Dragoon's voice wasn't too insistent, but his concern was genuine. Ice followed his gesture to find his husband sitting against the railing, beside the kneeling Yuki. 

She looked up to Ice as he approached, and he'd heard her tell Angel "--he is now," but hadn't heard Angel speak. Ice noticed the remnants of tears on the White Mage's face, and he felt his heart sink with worry; his expression a worried frown as he moved to the dark-haired mage's side.

"Angel, are you okay?" Ice asked quietly.

Angel tiredly looked up to him; his wordless response was a smile and a slow nod as he leaned towards Ice. The Warrior picked his husband up, and could feel him shaking a bit in his arms. He turned to Yuki to thank her for checking up on him, but Angel purred curiously, finally mumbling something.

"Did.. you get this outfit... at the Marrrkets...?"

Ice blinked. "I did," he admitted, unable to stop a grin forming as his tail wagged furiously; even if he was worried for him, Ice was quite happy that Angel, even as exhausted as he clearly was, had still noticed his new outfit. 

Angel nuzzled a little against his beloved's shoulder; his shaking seemed to be settling a bit. "I like it on you..."

Ice smiled a bit softer, then turned to look over to Sumire--curiously, the Dragoon seemed nearly as tired as Angel was, rubbing his eyes and yawning heavily, ears flicking as he finished. Yuki's voice drew Ice's attention back to her.

"Are we _quite_ certain that he and Shoto don't discuss stupid ideas together when left alone?"

The Warrior couldn't actually say that wasn't a thought he'd had as well... more than once. "Perhaps we should all head to bed and rest," he demurred, nodding to Sumire, who shook his head in a bid to stay awake while standing, "I guess it's been a longer day than I thought."

Yuki followed his nod to look at Sumire with a bit of confusion on her face. She made a face, then headed over to the Dragoon before she responded, "That's probably for the best, it seems." 

She turned and pulled Sumire onto her back, in the same manner as she'd done a few times with Shoto, before he could even argue. He tried to do just this thing as they headed off, but Yuki was having none of it. 

"Y-Yuki!?"

"Quiet, Sumire. If nothing else, I'm going to make sure you make it to your bed," the Viera looked back to Ice, " _You_ make sure Angel does too, Farran."

"Don't worry," Ice smiled, chuckling, though he still felt a bit confused and a little worried at the whole situation. Even as he told them he'd see them in the morning, he was considering how to ask Angel what had happened. He felt the White Mage in his arms shift a little, and bury his face against Ice's shoulder, almost completely. 

The Warrior and Yuki nodded silent good nights to one another, then he looked down to his husband as he turned to carry him into their room.

"You..."

"Hm?"

"...You... smell nice... too," Angel's face tinged the lightest shade of pink. Ice thought for a moment. He could tell his husband's tone sounded a bit sad; more than ever, he felt that something was wrong. A part of him wanted to laugh, but he just hugged Angel a bit tighter, instead.

"C'mon, let's get you over to the bed."

* * *  
Once in their room, with the door closed, Ice felt Angel relax completely; he felt a little bit of relief, knowing that Angel felt safe again. For his part, Ice felt torn. He was relieved that Angel seemed okay, but he had no idea what happened, and so he also felt in a bit of an awkward position--he'd had to help Angel in situations like this before, but he still felt like he was far from an expert at that.

Maybe humor would help them both; he offered his husband a playful grin.

"My new outfit seems to have had you weak in the knees before you even came through the door, hm?" He gently put his forehead against Angel's, and felt the other Miqo'te's tail tip twitch against his stomach. There was also quite the lovely blush on Angel's face, and a truly adorable pout; all of these were expected reactions.

(The slight jump and little bit of stiffness in his posture were probably nothing.)

For Angel's part, he wanted to tell his husband about Emet-Selch right then and there; the secret almost burned inside him, it felt. But he couldn't find the words; if he'd tried to speak, he doubted anything would come out but a nervous, whining purr, so he settled for nuzzling under his husband's chin and giving a soft, flustered "Hmph~."

Ice chuckled and gently caressed Angel's face, his smile warm and his embrace gentle. "Should I make us some tea, do you think? I know you're tired, but..."

Angel smiled and nodded, a warm feeling in his breast despite his fatigue. The pressure he'd been feeling to explain everything, as fast as he could, abated somewhat; no, it'd be alright if he waited, let himself have some tea. Enjoyed a few moments with the man who loved him, and whom he loved, so much. 

Feeling the exhausted mage slump a bit against him on the way over to the bed, Ice carefully sat Angel down there, propped up with pillows against the headboard, and then went to heat up some water for their tea.

It was ironic, Angel realized suddenly--he'd put himself in charge of brewing the tea in Shoto's room, but he had gotten too distracted to have any of it himself. Immediately after, he also realized he hadn't eaten anything he took there to share either. He frowned and grumbled a little at the thought, as he heard Ice clattering a bit with their tea set; he recognized the sound of the tea tin, the glass-like clink of the mesh filter into the ceramic teapot, then the tea leaves hitting it as it was prepared for the hot water from the kettle that would be ready in a few moments.

Strangely, those quiet, mundane sounds helped to completely push aside his worries and his ruminations from just prior. The White Mage reached up to unclip the butterfly wing barrette from his hair, then sat there for a few moments and just stared at the design of the wing.

Ice finished prepping their teacups with the proper amounts of sugar and cream in each, then turned to wait for the kettle to whistle. As soon as he turned around, he saw the pensive expression on his husband's face; too, he noticed Angel was staring at the barrette that Ice had given him as a wedding present...

He'd just begun to convince himself that Angel was over-stressed and anxiety was overtaking his husband due to the gravity of the assignments before them, but...

Was it something else...? He broke the silence with a serious, but reassuring tone to his voice, biting his lip a little.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, love."

Angel immediately looked up at Ice's voice, then paused before he opened his mouth to respond, "I..."

The whistle of the kettle cut in quite suddenly and quite loudly, stifling the conversation just as it began; Ice made a face at the inanimate object for its abysmal timing. Still, though, the tea might help them both on that front...He took the tea towel to grab the kettle, then carefully poured the hot water into the pot to let it steep. Carrying the small tea tray over to the bedside, he sat it on the nightstand, then gently sat on the side of the bed, facing his husband. 

Angel handed his husband the barrette, and Ice carefully put it in the drawer of the nightstand for him. He also helped Angel change clothes for bed, which gave the tea enough time to steep...

* * *  
After Ice poured the tea into each prepared cup, he handed Angel his first; the one with extra sugar. The White Mage carefully held the cup with both hands, using it to warm himself; he stared at the liquid rather than drink it, though. Ice brought his own cup to his mouth, blowing on it a few times, and took a careful sip. 

...Angel still had yet to drink any, and his husband hadn't really spoken again since the kettle whistled. Ice bit his lip again, his frown deepening...what had happened to get Angel like this?

"Angel, please...what's on your mind?"

Ever so gently, he put his hand on Angel's arm, just lightly, able to withdraw it if it bothered Angel at all, but he needed to...

Ice's question and sudden touch _did_ make Angel jump, but they weren't unwelcome. He took a deep breath, to calm down, then looked to Ice for a moment with a forlorn expression before looking back to the tea before he finally spoke again.

"...A-A lot..." Angel flicked an ear, then pulled his legs up carefully, to rest his arms on his knees, anxiety plainly written all over his face. "I-I'm just... really exhausted. I'm sorrrry, Ice," he purred, his face almost completely in his cup. 

Ice gently squeezed his arm, smiling reassuringly.

"Why don't we take it one thing at a time...?" 

Angel looked over, then forward, over his cup, 

"Wh-Where should I start...?" He blew on his tea a few times, then took a careful sip. Ice thought for a moment as he drank a bit more of his own tea.

"Hm," he let go of Angel's arm to gesture towards their door. "I know. Why were you, er, asleep in the hall outside our room...?" 

Angel followed Ice's finger, then stared at the door for a moment. He blushed, then buried his face in his cup; his voice gained a little echo from speaking into the cup.

"I-I didn't... rrrealize wherrre I was."

"...You didn't know you were outside our room?" Ice blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. "Did something happen...? Why wouldn't you know where you were?" He tried his best not to sound too concerned, but his worry was obvious.

Angel lifted his head, then bit his lip; of course something had happened, but...he shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "I-It's not," he stopped, then shook his head, "Rrrather, wh-while I was in Shoto's rrroom, I-I had," he fidgeted, "I-I had a... _rrreally, rrreally_ s-strrrong... vision, frrrom the, the Echo..." He frowned at his own jumbled purrs, then looked back to the half-empty tea cup. "Afterrr I left, I saw..." 

He trailed off, the name stuck in his throat, and his voice cracked a little; he quickly drank the rest of his tea, trying to avoid saying it. 

Ice leaned forward as he spoke, since the White Mage was talking more and more into his cup. "A vision from the Echo...?" 

Angel nodded, then pulled the now empty-cup away from his mouth. Ice made a face, then reached up to brush some of Angel's hair out of his face; he knew what it was like to be assaulted with an unwelcome memory from out of nowhere when the Echo flared up. "Is... that why you were crying?" 

Angel's eyes widened reflexively at the question, then he reached up to rub at his face with one hand. 

Ice took his hand without thinking, "You're okay now. It's just... when you were in the hallway, I thought I saw..." he trailed off, as Angel bit his lip and shifted his hand to take Ice's properly.

"I-I... followed Tora," Angel whispered, his purr was muted, and didn't seem to affect his words. Ice stayed silent, and Angel continued to speak quietly and slowly. 

"I-I followed Tora, and I found... the stars. B-But... I got lost... on the way back... I was... so tired. I didn't... I didn't realize where I was in the hall. H-He didn't... lead me back." 

Ice blinked, and took a moment to register what he'd said. He gently squeezed Angel's hand, as he carefully reached to put his half-empty tea cup on the tray. "You... followed... Tora...?" 

Angel nodded and closed his eyes tightly, fighting tears, a little. Ice shifted; he gently took hold of Angel's empty cup to put it aside as well, then moved in closer beside his husband on the bed. 

Most of what Angel had said made perfect sense to the Warrior; following the debilitating vision, his husband had gone somewhere in the Pendants that he could see the stars, and gotten lost. On the way back, he managed to get to their room, but didn't realize it, and sat down, at which point fatigue had taken over for him.

But the first part of what he'd said, that first sentence.

Ice's mind went back, on what felt like a loop, to what he'd glimpsed before the knock on the door. 

"Talk to me, love. What do you mean you followed Tora...?"

"...When," Angel began--his voice was still very quiet, and on the verge of cracking. Pausing, he leaned over and snuggled against Ice; the Warrior put his arms around him to comfort him, and gently petted the White Mage's head. Angel nodded after a moment, then continued, letting his beloved's embrace calm him, "When I left... Shoto's room... I-I saw... Tora... in the hall. He's... He's gotten so big."

The problem was that Ice knew--well, knew _of_ Tora. He'd never met the little kitten, the sweet-natured little orange house-cat Angel had met in Shirogane, wandering along the shoreline. 

Tora had died before Ice could meet him.

The obvious question, then, was "how was Angel seeing a dead kitten?" 

Except...Ice had seen that very same kitten. Just now, at the door. And before that...

"He's... 'gotten big'...? I'm... confused. You make it sound like you've seen him... a lot...?" Ice's voice was soft.

"I have... I've... I've seen him... morrre frrrrequently... since ourrrr fight... o-our f-fight with... H-Had-... w-w-with Emet-Selch," his purr was loud, and he hugged Ice as he corrected the name. Ice opened his mouth to speak, but Angel continued before he could, "I saw him... after I f-finished fishing... this morning... H-He was out on a rock I couldn't get to... th-then... he disappeared."

Ice took a deep breath, then hugged Angel. He looked down, then ran his hand along Angel's arm, until he could hold his left hand. His palm covered Angel's ring, and he rested their hands against his own chest; right over his heart.

"I know I told you... when I first met you... that I followed a strange, orange kitten along the beach," Angel flinched, but he nodded and snuggled a bit more against his husband. 

"He disappeared after he led me to the tide pool. I didn't know what to do at first when I saw you on those rocks looking at the water. All I could think of was that I had to stop you from going into the water. Because... you looked..." he trailed off, as he remembered what he'd said on the stairs in the plaza; that Shoto looked like Angel had when they'd first met. 

Angel shifted a little, to look up at Ice. The Warrior had his eyes closed in thought, with a slight frown on his face.

Ice could once again hear the voice of Branden; the Paladin, the former Warrior of Light and Warrior of Darkness. The hero of Norvrandt that he'd seen when the Light they'd all been burdened with threatened to overtake them. And once more, he heard Branden's question.

 _'Would you hesitate if you had the strength to stand once more? Didn't you vow to be his shield?_ '

Ice's expression softened at that memory. He then gave a weak smile to his husband as he finally continued, a bit quieter than a moment ago. He hugged Angel to him and gently squeezed the hand over his heart, "You looked like you'd lost everything... and in that moment, all I wanted to do was to give you _something_. I wanted to catch you before you fell."

"....I-Ice," Angel whispered, his voice threatened to leave him at that admission. Ice smiled comfortingly, then kissed his forehead.

"So, back then... I also followed Tora... and found a star." 

Angel squeaked, then curled his tail against himself. His face blushed so brightly, Ice felt the warmth against his chest, through his shirt... and he smiled warmly at the response. For a little while, they rested like that, contentedly.

* * *  
Angel shook a bit as he yawned, unable to stop it. His tail fluffed a bit, as he nuzzled against Ice...belatedly, _now_ , he felt like he could speak. How silly...oh well.

"Ice...?"

"Hm?"

"...Do you... remember... wh-when I asked... if you had noticed anything... strrrange? O-Or... different... a-after...?" Angel trailed off again, but the implication was clear. Ice remembered being asked that question when they had returned to the Source after they had defeated Hades; Emet-Selch. 

The Warrior nodded, and made a positive sound in reply, but Angel didn't continue any further.

"...You mentioned you've been seeing Tora more and more since then," Ice said, blinking as he realized the implications, and the other little strange thing about Angel's prior words. "...And that he seems like he's...growing, despite..."

Angel nodded silently. The mage still felt burdened with worry about the underlying, unspoken topic... but his exhaustion was catching up to him. The tea, being held by his husband, and the memories that had been dredged up by admitting he'd been seeing his beloved cat's ghost... It was just too much. He wanted to fight sleep, but he had no power to do so.

"I think I might've seen him just now," Ice admitted, looking back towards the door to the bedroom. "At the front door...It was only for a moment, but it was an orange cat. He was there, and then was gone."

"That's him," Angel murmured softly, a sad smile growing on his face. "Heh. I'm...I'm kind of glad...? Is that...strrrange...?"

"Of course it isn't, Angel," Ice said, his own smile rueful as he nuzzled his husband's cheek. "After everything we've been through here on Norvrandt, the last thing any of us needs is to feel like they're going crazy, or the only one receiving strange visitations or the like."

"I remember," Angel said with a weak chuckle. "How long it took Shoto to tell us about Ardbert..."

"To be fair, at that point the Light had us all seeing things that actually weren't there," Ice said, shaking his head; the memory of the Lightwardens' poison cracking through them, of seeing his husband's beautiful face overlaid with the shape of a sin eater even momentarily, made him shudder.

"Yeah," Angel admitted, curling up tight against Ice.

"Ah, I'm going on and I never actually answered your question." The Warrior gently stroked Angel's hair. "I have to say, I think that just now was the first...really strange, out-of-place event, for me. I guess I'm not quite as sensitive to these sorts of things...?" He smiled a little and looked down to the blue-tipped ears of the Miqo'te he held protectively in his arms. "I have to keep an eye and a half on you, after all, love."

Angel laughed and stuck out his tongue weakly. "Sorrrrry."  
  
"Bah. I wouldn't have you any other way, Angel."

Angel blushed, but his purr was loud and happier than it had been, and his grin was unmistakable. "I love you, Ice." 

He was going to nuzzle under Ice's chin to thank him for his words, and the meaning behind them, but his husband caught his chin gently with his fingers and pulled him into a kiss. Angel's ears perked straight up, then fell to the sides as he returned the kiss, his whole face red but his tired heart alight with joy. 

Neither wanted to break the kiss first, though Ice eventually did, "I love you too, Angel." 

He rested his forehead against the smaller Miqo'te's, who shook slightly as he failed to stifle a rather wide yawn. Angel reached up to rub at his eyes with his free hand, then snuggle against Ice's chest as he curled up a bit more. "You.... You keep... rrrescuing... me." Angel trailed off; he felt warm and safe against Ice, and his eyes closed slowly.

The Warrior shifted to gently push them both down a bit further on the bed; Angel ended up cradled in Ice's arm, his head on his shoulder. The blonde Miqo'te didn't want to get up again and disturb his husband, so he lay there quietly, and stared at Angel's sleeping face for a little. He looked so vulnerable like this. Ice brushed some of Angel's blue-tipped hair from his face, and his eyes fell on the scar over his right eye. He didn't know where it had come from, but it served to rekindle his desire to protect his husband after their conversation.

"It's my duty to protect you... I swore an oath," Ice trailed off, then breathed a laugh at his wording. 

He pulled the blankets up to make sure Angel was covered, then settled into sleep for the night.

* * *

The first thing he noticed, as his eyes opened, was the sound of water from nearby; a stream or river, if he reckoned correctly. 

As much as it calmed him to hear it, Angel knew there shouldn't be that sound, not from where he'd fallen asleep. A gentle breeze blew over his form, and blades of grass tickled his face...which alerted him to the fact he was laying in a field of cool, manicured grass.

This was _definitely_ not where he'd fallen asleep.

His ears pricked to the sound of quiet footsteps, and he pushed himself up from his position...only to nearly vomit, his limbs trembling and his vision wavering. His body felt heavy, chilled; just getting to his knees had been exhausting.

( _This is...aetheric exhaustion. Oh, no._ )

He knew the sensation well enough; he'd done it to himself at least twice in his life. But that didn't answer the question of why he felt that now, in this strange place...

Looking down at himself, Angel immediately recognized the robes of an Amaurotine. Near where he'd been laying was an Amaurotine's white mask, which he reached to pick up without thinking, as he tried to get his bearings. This wasn't his body; it wasn't his reality, or even his thoughts. This was the same sensation as before--the Echo. 

The footsteps stopped before him. In his line of sight was the bottom of another Amaurotine's robe, beneath which was a pair of sandaled feet. This new person knelt down in front of Angel, and spoke in a strangely familiar voice; almost maddeningly familiar, if only he could place where he'd heard it...

"You keep overdoing...this," the other Amaurotine said softly; even from beneath the mask, Angel could tell the newcomer was giving him a frustrated frown. Swiftly, however, the newcomer undid his own mask, pulling it away to reveal pale green hair that fell over his too-perfect face, with a pair of piercing, pastel-green eyes boring into Angel. "I'm sure if you told your brother what was going on, he'd listen."

Angel looked to the white mask in his hands, and words he didn't intend to say fell from his lips. 

"I can't burden him with such a thing. I keep _failing_ ... s-so, just like everything else, I have to keep _pushing_."

The feeling was definitely a strong Echo; he recognized the sense of reliving a memory, but... this memory felt distantly, terribly familiar, and he couldn't figure out _why_. 

Who...who _was_ this Amaurotine?

"What, exactly do you keep failing at? Everything you've done in recent memory has succeeded."

"...which means I haven't succeeded," was the response, before Angel could even try to say differently. His tone was sad, and distant.

"That makes absolutely no sense, I hope you know that," the green-haired boy sighed. He made a face, then stood up and took a few steps away.

Angel felt himself forced to stand up, then the dizzying agony aetheric exhaustion brought. Whoever they were, they'd exhausted their aether nearly to the limit; he could feel them struggling to stay upright as they headed back towards the city, every step shaky, every breath heavy. 

Looking around through wavering eyes, Angel took in the city...he recognized Amaurot from the Tempest's reconstruction, but there was no park there, not one this large and sprawling.

"Are you going to make it home?"

"I... may be... slowed, but... I'll make it back, tonight. There are still... a few things I haven't finished taking care of yet." 

At those words, Angel felt his stomach twist and get unpleasantly heavy. As the Amaurotine he was inhabiting trudged towards the street that led into the city proper, he felt...he began to feel almost certain he didn't want this to continue, he didn't want to know what the Ancient meant.

( _...This... feeling...  
_ _This Amaurotine..._ )

But he was no longer sure if he could force himself awake...

The sound of a gentle bell drew his attention. Before he could turn, he felt something jump onto his robe from behind; it clambered up until it was on his shoulder, then happily nudged his cheek. Angel craned his head back to look at the creature that had just greeted him; it had a lithe, quadrupedal orange body, built like...almost like a gaelicat without wings, or an oversized house-cat which had some of the features of a rabbit. 

Set in its round, chubby-cheeked face were two big, glowing, gold eyes with a matching triangle on its head; the gold triangle faded into its orange around the neck. Tiny paws that still managed to cling to his robe, and three, very large, fluffy tails. A soft, gold glow surrounded the creature that Angel recognized all too well--this was an arcane creature, like a carbuncle, or a faerie.

As he turned to look back to the city with his new companion, Angel caught a glimpse of 'himself' in the reflective surface of a building; the one he was inhabiting had very pale skin, bright green eyes, and shaggy, light silver-blue hair that was parted over their left eye, and covered their right. He also caught a glimpse of the pale green-haired boy following from the park.

"Ambrosia... who is it that's looking for me?" Angel heard himself ask, but the name gave him pause. He remembered that name; he'd heard Hythlodaeus say that name. 

Would that make this Amaurotine...the same as the one from before...?!

The little creature's response was just another set of quiet, soothing bell-like tones. Angel didn't understand the reply, but the Amaurotine clearly did; he felt himself sigh heavily, unbidden, and he fumblingly put his mask back on, though he couldn't pull his hood up due to Ambrosia sitting on his shoulder. 

"Asopus," the familiar voice called from behind, "Asopus, look at me."

( _This name... it... it was...?_ )

It _was_ the same. This was the boy who'd been in his earlier vision...!

"Go home," Asopus replied quietly, trying to hurry ahead; he only made it two steps before he tripped, and his mask fell off again; reflexively, he wrapped his arms around his body, his eyes squeezing shut as both he and Angel felt pain wrack their bodies anew, his limbs twitching.

"Only if you come with me," the green-haired boy replied, then knelt before him once more and picked up his mask.

"I can't."

"...And why not?" The green-haired boy ground his teeth and sighed, as if he didn't believe him; Angel found that he didn't believe him either, the pain he was sharing with this Ancient for once dulled by incredulity.

_(He can't be serious...  
You can't go anywhere but home,  
not with aetheric exhaustion this bad...  
Home, or to a healer's, for bed rest...) _

"Master Lahabrea is looking for me. I have another lesson with him this eve--" The voice of the boy called Asopus hitched, and he all but sobbed at a wave of pain. Angel winced at their shared sensation...but just as rapidly he felt a sudden, terrible dread and continued frustration, enough to build a headache on.

( _...Wait... **Lahabrea**... is... teaching him?  
I-I don't understand...  
I feel so scared of that idea...  
I-Is this my own feelings... or...  
_ _the feelings of this..._ )

"Asopus," the other boy began, almost hissing the name through his teeth; he rubbed one of his temples before he continued. "...You're just lucky Ambrosia doesn't take aether to maintain. There's no way you're going to make it to your lesson, even if I intended to listen to you." The green-haired boy put his hand on his hip, eyebrows narrowing down as his stare bored into Asopus.

"I... I-I've a-already," the reply was stuttered, and hesitant. Ambrosia nuzzled his cheek.

"Come home. _Now_ , before this gets _stupider._ Apologize for missing your lesson when you see him tomorrow. It's not like he won't excuse you."

There was silence between the two boys; only the very soft sound of very quiet bells tinkling rhythmically could be heard. Angel felt the body of Asopus slump around him, disregarding the Miqo'te's will, hands dropping into his lap and tears pricking his eyes with heat, with the urge to release them in a sudden wave of sorrow.

"I don't... _understand_..."

"What's to _understand_ ?" The other boy tilted his head in a _maddeningly_ familiar way. "You're _past your limit_ , Asopus. If you go to your lesson, you'll end up in Anyder's medical wing. In the urgent care ward. _Again._ "

Angel felt the Amaurotine he was being forced to share the body of grit his teeth and shake, as he lost the fight to hold back tears in his state; the warm, salty sensation of them streaming down his cheeks was another completely unwelcome familiar sensation, as sobs wracked him. 

The green-haired boy shook his head, and knelt down to put gentle arms around Asopus, carefully picking him up. Ambrosia keened softly, unable to make the first Amaurotine feel better, but let the other one lift Asopus onto his back, trotting along beside them making little, worried, tinkling sounds as the green-haired boy began to carry the silver-haired one.

Something clicked for Angel. A terrible realization began to dawn.

_(He...He never intended to make it...to that lesson, did he...?)_

"I have to make up for what I did," Asopus whimpered into the other boy's shoulder. 

The green-haired boy continued a few more paces, then stopped under a streetlight.

"If you ask me," he turned to look at Asopus, "I think you've more than made up for the accident, which happened _several years ago_ ....You didn't _put_ a soul into that bird."

( _The soul... in the... bird...  
_ _The vision I saw with Emet-Selch...!?  
_ _So...  
_ _S-So this is how he felt.  
So this is what it was like for him..._)

"I _didn't_ ask you," Asopus mumbled, but he slightly hugged the boy who carried him, and kept his face buried against that boy's shoulder, as Ambrosia hopped onto a nearby wall and then onto the green-haired boy's head. The familiar-voiced Ancient turned to continue down the street. 

"Whether you believe it or not, you still have reasons to live, Asopus. For now, _let me fight your battles for you_. Just rest. Please."

Angel froze at that phrase, but Asopus shook his head, another violent sob tearing itself from him, "N-no. You're _wrong_ . I don't _want_ to rest. I--" 

Angel shook himself free of the memory and pushed it away from himself before the Amaurotine he'd been reliving the memories of could finish his response. He knew the next words. He knew what came next. He didn't want to hear it. 

( _...That voice...No...no...  
_ _Th-That voice was... Anubis...?!  
_ _That's wh-why it was... so familiar??  
_ _This...  
_ _Th-This_ **_has_ ** _to be just...just a dream._ )

Angel squeaked.

( _This isn't an Echo. This is...It's not real. It didn't happen._ )

He didn't want to believe this was an Echo. If it was, that would mean that somehow Anubis had existed in Amaurot, which...couldn't be.

If it was an Echo, he'd have to figure out how this Asopus could've known him.

If it was an Echo, then...then...

( ** _This_ ** **_isn't_ ** **_an Echo!_** )

Almost in direct response to his denial, he felt a white-hot spike stab right through his brain.

If the aetheric exhaustion he'd felt along with Asopus had been excruciating, this was a thousand times worse. Angel had no defense against it, no way to throw up an emotional wall or a mental defense. 

It was fire driven into his core, into his mind; he screamed, and the world melted away.

* * *  
A terrible feeling of mental static, like something wasn't tuned right. The echoes of the fiery spike that had torn through his mind throbbing, as if an open wound. His vision swam, and he realized...

He was seeing through Asopus' eyes again. 

_(M-Mother...It...It hurts...)_

Before him, Amaurot was ablaze with a hundred fires; it was just as Emet-Selch had shown them, in all its horror: The Final Days. 

He saw meteors wreathed in flame, falling from the sky in the distance. He saw terrible creatures, horrors without name, hunting their terrified Ancient victims through the ruins of their once-beautiful home.

Asopus was cowering against the rubble from a collapsed building. His leg, his leg...it burned...! He hadn't dared to look at the wound, he'd been too busy trying to get away to even pay much attention to the pain, at first. His robes were torn, his pale skin was exposed, and covered in soot and blood from his injuries. He felt heavy; his throat burned terribly from screaming, sobbing, and breathing in acrid smoke.

( _How do I know this...?_ )

Asopus peered out from his hiding place, looking around desperately for something, and...he caught sight of a familiar-looking Amaurotine standing but a few fulms away. 

His robe was extremely tattered, his hood completely torn away, and his mask was half broken. His one, visible, pastel green eye seemed to glow with the reflection of the nearby fires. Pale green hair was clearly singed, but he didn't seem afraid of any of the chaos around him; in fact, his face twisted in a rictus grin... then said something as he caught sight of Asopus. Angel could not actually hear the words that froze Asopus in fear, but he felt what Asopus felt; terror, sorrow, abandonment, and that familiar feeling which bubbled up once more in his stomach.

( _N-No... S-Stop..._ )

The green-haired boy with the voice of Anubis just laughed, then turned to look at the city. He held an arm out towards the flames.

( _...this isn't real.  
_ _This isn't real!  
_ **_It's just a dream...!!!_** )

He heard Asopus whisper Hydaelyn's name to himself, even as he coughed from the smoke. Angel didn't understand any context, but he knew this felt real.

And that was something Angel couldn't accept.

( _I have to wake up.  
_ _Wake up!  
_ _...Ice?  
_ _Where...  
_ _Where are you...?  
_ _H-Help...  
_ _me..._ )

* * *

Angel sat up with a sharp cry, panting violently, a wave of nausea washing over him. He felt cold and sweaty; he shivered, and tears came before he could regain his senses, salt stinging his eyes further, water blurring his vision completely...but as a small mercy, the pain from the dream was fading away. 

Ice shifted, murmuring, his eyes fluttering open--Angel's sudden awakening had pulled him from a fairly deep sleep. The White Mage curled himself into a ball, even as the Warrior moved to sit up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

Angel reached up, and covered his ears; which were pinned back tight against his head, tight enough they hurt; and curled his tail tightly against himself.

It was all too vivid, too fresh, too...no, no, no!!

"It was just a drrream," he hissed to himself, his voice cracking slightly. "It was just a d-drrream...!!"

Even with his brain still shaking off the cobwebs of his own time asleep, Ice realized something was wrong; this was a bit more reaction than a more ordinary nightmare would bring. Flicking his ears and forcefully blinking several times, he briefly glanced around to make sure everything else was safe, and then spoke quietly, sounding confused and concerned.

"Hey," the blonde Miqo'te put a comforting arm around the black-haired one, "you okay, love...?"

Angel squeaked, and jumped slightly at the touch, and turned to instantly bury his face against him, whimpering, relief flooding him; he sobbed once, but it was from the release of pent-up anxiety more than anything. Ice was there, his arms were solid, and it all really had been...

It hadn't been real in the sense of the here and now, and that was enough.

Ice's arms wrapped completely around his husband, his voice soft. Angel wasn't exactly a stranger to night terrors, but it had been quite a while since there was one...quite this bad. He gently pet Angel's head, running his fingers through his soft black hair down to its blue tips.

"You're okay," he reassured Angel. "You're safe...it seems like you had a hell of a nightmare, though...?"

"It... I-I..." Angel purred, then tilted his head, "I-I don't know... It... a-almost felt... like... the Echo...?"

He pulled back just enough to look up to Ice; his expression still showed some fear, but it was rapidly being replaced by confusion. Ice blinked, and while he was clearly curious, his expression wasn't one of disbelief or doubt--it made sense enough, they'd felt the Echo in dreams before, and Angel had had _one_ debilitating Echo vision the previous day already.

Angel frowned and bit his lip as he tried to explain, concentrating on what he remembered of the dream.

"I saw... I-I saw an... Amaurrrotine," he trailed off slightly, in a pause. "Rrrather... I-I _was_ the Amaurrrotine. I felt... alone, sad... afrrraid. I was... I was so... scarrred." The mage was letting his purr mangle his words with wild abandon--he was so very glad his husband was there. It was just...so much easier to push past his fear in Ice's hold than if he had woken up alone.

Ice nodded, his own brow furrowing a little in thought. "You did mention you had a really strong Echo vision yesterday. Is this an after-effect...?"

Angel frowned, "No, I don't think so. I-It felt," he stopped, then shook his head, his fists clenching as he tried to remember more of the dream... tried to remember context, but it was like trying to hold on to water with clenched fists.

The whole thing had felt so familiar and raw while he was dreaming it; yet now that it was awake, the details were paling, fading away. He could try to go back to sleep, recover it that way; he was sure if he did, he'd see that again. He'd...

He'd be inside Asopus again. He'd feel Asopus' pain, again. He'd feel Asopus' fear, again. He'd feel Asopus' urge to annihilate himself, again.

The thought made him want to throw up, and made him whimper and shudder violently against Ice, as if recoiling. He was still tired, yes, but...he didn't want to sleep more, not now. Not if it meant going back to that. Not if it meant screaming at himself to wake up and not being able to.

"Hey, hey, never mind, Angel. It's okay," Ice whispered soothingly; he ran his fingers through Angel's hair again, and the White Mage let himself relax further, his purring becoming a little less urgent. Turning his head a little to rest his cheek against the Warrior's chest, he could see the window; the morning light was just starting to push away the stars. 

...the stars they had returned to Norvrandt, all of them, together. It let him feel a little more hope, along with his husband's reassuring hug...although it also was quite early, then, earlier than Angel had thought!

Ice pulled back a little, not far, but enough to look into his husband's eyes, one of his warm hands coming up to cup Angel's cheek. "I'm worried about you, love. Between the Echo vision last night, and this nightmare..." He trailed off and smiled sadly, ruefully. "When I told you you could talk to me about anything, I did mean anything, you know?"

"I'll be... okay," Angel smiled weakly, and let himself stare into Ice's eyes a moment before he continued "...Hey... do you," he shifted, then reached his hand up, and placed it over Ice's, on his own cheek; it worked to settle his purring enough to not interfere in his speech for now. "Do you remember... when I asked you... about strange things...?"

Ice blinked, "Like last night...?"

Angel nodded.

"Yeah... I said I felt stronger," Ice put his forehead to Angel's. "I still feel that way... and I haven't really had anything happen that I've noticed... Well," he gestured slightly towards the door with his free hand, "before last night, that is."

"I... I-I've felt stronger too," Angel tilted his head towards their hands on his cheek, "W-Well, specifically, I-I guess, my _magic_. My summons seem stronger...like their presence is...I guess...heavier, somehow? Or more solid...? I think that makes sense," he said, though he blushed and fidgeted amidst the silent pause. 

"I'm not as practiced using Hyacinth or Emma as Shoto or Yuki are, but... my attempts have felt... very different." He looked up to see he still had his husband's attention, "...even... e-even Anubis has been more talkative... and feels... more... present...?"

《 _Hey, now! I deserve better than being lumped in with your faerie friend and your_ _carbuncle_ _~!_ 》

Angel made a face at the reaction, and rolled his eyes. 

"He just said something, didn't he...?" Ice sighed, quickly realizing that Angel's last reaction had been to someone that he couldn't hear, couldn't see, but who was present nonetheless...

The one called ‘Anubis'.

His husband bit his lip, then gave him a quick nod of confirmation...and for a while, there was silence as Ice mulled over everything, content to just lay there thinking with Angel against him; at least until he noticed the White Mage was shivering just slightly.

"Hm. Perhaps~ we could warm you up with a bath, huh? I'm sure it will also help you wake up more from your nightmare, love." 

Angel blushed and nodded assent; he was starting to realize just how damp his nightclothes had become from the dream. 

Ice stood first; Angel then moved to stand, but found himself weak at the knees, and the stronger-statured Warrior gently slipped an arm about his husband's waist, supporting him carefully as they headed to the bathroom. 

* * *  
The Exarch had been kind enough to have their room set up with two people and cohabitation in mind--there was a large, traditional bathtub, but also a shower set into the wall, off to the side, so that they could bathe together or separately as they preferred from day to day. 

Careful of his wobbly balance, Angel carefully removed his sweat-soaked nightclothes, as Ice ran the water for the bath, the heat and steam filling the room. Once it was full enough and the water was off, Angel carefully stepped over the edge and allowed himself to sink down into the tub. Relief flooded through him from the warmth of the water...he sniffed, then a smile began to creep across his face, one filled with happy relief. There was a light scent of lavender in the air, and it really helped comfort him, along with the heat from the bath.

Seeing Angel's expression, Ice couldn't help but smile himself...although his eyes also wandered over the dark-haired Miqo'te's slender body as he stepped into the bath. He'd been tempted to join Angel in the tub, being honest, for...perhaps not entirely "honorable" reasons, but maybe it'd be a welcome distraction...?

Not today, though, he decided--they wouldn't have much time before they were supposed to meet in the Ocular, and the last thing they needed was Yuki banging on the door and interrupting them _in flagrante delicto,_ or worse, her, Shoto, or Sumire letting themselves in to check in on them. Instead, he opted to use the shower, stripping off his own nightclothes and stepping into it, sighing a little happily as the warm water hit his chest. He cupped his hands to pool some water into them, then splashed it onto his face and through his hair, before taking a moment to simply let the water run over him. 

The Warrior's thoughts drifted back to the last part of their waking conversation; he felt stronger, yes, but nothing outright _different_ like Angel had mentioned. Yet... it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that things had changed, drastically, for him, and he just hadn't noticed yet. 

It wouldn't be the first time, after all...

...just like the first time he'd encountered Anubis, on that terrible day in the Ghimlyt Dark.

* * *

They had known that the fighting in Ghimlyt would be desperate. They had known that after the liberation of Ala Mhigo, and even more after the fall of Yotsuyu. They knew it had been complicated further by her rebirth as Tsukuyomi. The Imperials would be out for blood, and nothing would stop that.

And they knew that an Ascian must be wearing the face of Zenos yae Galvus.

None of that had helped them in the moment, when they stood against him. He'd swat Lord Hien, Lyse, and Yugiri aside like toys, but a _breath_ before they had arrived on the scene. He had turned to face them, his helmeted head cocked as if he was studying them. Then he'd moved, and it had been all the five Warriors of Light could do to stand against him...

He was on the ground for only seconds before a familiar aura--dancing shadows and swirling void--engulfed the body that had been Garlemald's crown prince, and the Zenos that was not Zenos stood again, cracking his neck almost casually. His voice, too, was different.

"Heh. As expected of Hydaelyn's vaunted _puppets_ ." The Paragon who wore Zenos' face spoke words filled both with contempt and amusement. "I will give your Mother this; she did not entirely err in her choice of champions. Yet it matters little." A chuckle. "For all your strength, you will still _fail_."

Before any of them could reply, his sword-arm moved; the blade that flashed out sent out a violent shockwave, flinging each of the Warriors tumbling across the ground. Angel coughed, driven to his hands and knees; Ice was forcing himself back up, though his knees were trembling. Yuki was trying in vain to help Sumire climb to his feet...and then there was Shoto, who seemed to have taken the brunt of it, sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

_(No, no...It can't...It can't end like this. Come on, we can...)_

It was Angel that the eyes of "Zenos" locked on, glowing softly behind that terrible familiar helm; his movement was a blur, Ice couldn't follow it properly. One moment he was in one place, and another he had his hand around Angel's throat. The White Mage froze in place like a scruffed cat as he was grabbed by the throat, then immediately thrown back into a nearby wall of debris.

_(NO...!! ANGEL...!!!)_

Ice's words caught in his throat, a cough choking his scream; he stumbled, his attempt to stand ruined even as he clawed at the ground to force himself back up. He couldn't...he couldn't lay here helpless, he had to save Angel, he _had_ to...!

"Zenos" didn't even seem to notice this; his attention was fixed on Angel. Why? Ice knew his husband, Angel had to be both terrified out of his mind and badly injured, he was barely a threat, there _had to be a way_ to get the Ascian's attention--

...Angel was standing. Shakily, but he was standing.

_(...What in the world...?)_

His eyes were closed, but he seemed to shift his staff to a new, alien stance, and spoke a strange syllable...well, not wholly strange, but it was a word of power they were used to hearing from the lips of Y'shtola or the like, not Angel...!

The heat drained from the air around Angel's hands--glittering snow surrounded them as he flung up his left hand and sent a spear of ice barreling towards "Zenos". He wasn't idle, either, following it up with a strike to the ground that sent a blast of super-cold energy out and formed spikes of ice where the Ascian in the prince's body had been standing only seconds prior.  
  
 _(That's...Umbral Ice! That's Black Magic!)_

Everything about Angel's movements was foreign to Ice's eyes, but he seemed expertly precise, his spellwork swift; another wave of frigid power struck out at "Zenos". The Ascian scoffed in response, swirls of shadow lashing out from around him to counteract the frigid magic; his sword arm flashed again, and a wave of horribly cold violet energy lashed out towards Angel, who barely managed to bring up a shield of crackling indigo energy--a Manaward, barely holding firm. His eyes were...glowing, an odd pastel green color, different from his husband's usual eye color...and Angel had a strange black decoration around his neck, what looked like a loop of thread from a distance.

Even with those setbacks, Angel's actions bought time for the still-conscious Warriors of Light to rally. Ice shook his head, finally pulling himself to his feet again, and almost roared as he leapt forwards and slid in to bring his axe down, striking the earth and countering the earth-cracking force of "Zenos"'s next swing. Yuki and Sumire were finally up, too, though they were staring at Angel in obvious shock.

 _(He's never learned Black Magic that I know of..._ _  
__He's never used it in front of me..._ _  
__But that doesn't matter right now.)_

"Do you have a plan?!" he shouted back towards his husband.

"Yes! Freezing him solid!" Even his voice had a strange, alien cadence Ice wasn't used to.

"How long do you need?"  
  
"A minute, at most!"

Ice nodded sharply and chopped a gesture to Sumire and Yuki; the one riding Zenos might've guessed something was up, but it didn't matter. Ice's axe came cleaving in, Sumire's leaping spear made it impossible to slip through, and Yuki cried out words of rage and power to the egi-shadow of Bahamut, a pillar of Primal-born fire sending "Zenos" staggering back.

This seemed almost to serve as Angel's cue; the mage closed his eyes and focused his aether around himself, glowing arcanima lines tracing themselves rapidly into the ground beneath his feet. A truly _massive_ block of ice formed above Zenos in a matter of milliseconds, redolent with incredible, terrifying cold...

And then the ice slammed down onto him, leaving his armor covered in frost. Angel gestured and spun his staff before him, which was followed by a more intense, larger hunk of ice drawn down onto the Garlean prince's body. The mage's eyes flew open, filled with determination, as he called on more and more of the ice's power, drew the Umbral Ice out of the air in amounts even Matoya might be proud of.

The Ascian's armor was covered in frost and ice crystals, he was clearly struggling to move; his gaze was murderous, locked on Angel, _through Ice_. Even as the ice reached his skin, he moved with power and force, tore his feet free from the ground, and swung his sword to knock the Warrior facing him from his path, going to make a beeline for the mage...

Angel finished his invocation, and the air around "Zenos" swirled violently, all heat leaching from it. Another pillar of ice, this one much larger, formed _around_ the body of the Ascian; the ancient magic worked in concert with the ice Angel had built up around the one they were fighting to encase him completely; freezing him solid, just as Angel had promised.

" _Yes!_ " Ice gasped a cheer, but the cracking of the ice from within showed them well enough they'd have no breather.

So they just had to make the most of it.

"Sumire, Yuki, everything we've got, on him, NOW!"

Demi-Bahamut sang out destruction. His axe brimmed with fire as he struck down like an executioner making a cleave. And Sumire did them one better; the vast shape of Midgardsormr mantled him in pale blue flame as he leapt up and rocketed down, hard, the young Dragoon's lance piercing clean through the back of the false Zenos.

He was a corpse again. He _had_ to be...!

Void energy lashed out around Zenos again, a terrible aura of shadow lined with red, and this time it threw them all on their backs. Ice groaned in despair, even as he struggled to stand again...but he couldn't make his body move, and his vision was swimming.

"My, _my,_ Warriors of Light. You really are something, once you get your determination up, hm? Or maybe it's just been a while." The false Zenos was speaking to all of them, but he was striding over to Angel, shaking the last ice crystals from his frame. He tilted his head as he reached the dark-haired Miqo'te, eyes glittering behind the dark sockets of his helm, and slammed an armored boot down on the mage's arm, a horrible crack sounding as Angel's wrist broke.

Ice was horrified and angry enough at this, but somehow, Angel didn't cry out; he only hissed in pain and growled in anger, the glow in his eyes redoubling. "Zenos" put his sword's tip beneath the mage's chin.

"You. You are plainly not the White Mage from before...And yet your aether is almost exactly _like_ his, if not _part_ of his...? Fascinating," the Ascian-Zenos breathed.

_(Not Angel...?)_

Ice gasped and looked at Angel in confusion, straining his failing vision as if to try and see something that he hadn't seen before. "Zenos" went on, bringing the sword-tip closer to Angel's neck.

"An aetheric being...inhabiting a body. Yes. You must have a name, hm? I _insist_ you tell me what it is."

Angel was silent, hesitating, but he spoke when the pressure on his wrist increased, Zenos leaning in as if for intimacy. Ice tried again to force his body to move, willed energy into his arms, his leg, the helplessness a cursed shackle around his limbs.

" _A-Anubis_ ," he growled through tightly grit teeth, "My name...is... Anubis."

"Anubis..." Zenos tilted his head; a bit of water dripped onto Anubis' face as he leaned over. "Curiouser and curiouser. You're certainly not of my kind... The similarity in aether is the only thing that explains _how_ you're controlling his body, how you managed to stand up at all, in your condition... And, perhaps, _why_ , despite lacking his Blessing, you leveraged your primitive Black Magic against me with such ferocity..."

"Ferocious? Hey, now," Anubis breathed a laugh as he glanced up to the Ascian, his eyes defiant, "I only used ice magics on you. _Wanted_ to, you know. Slow you down. Seems... mostly to have _melted_ though... You must... be _soaked_... under that armor..."

"Quite," the false Zenos said, amiably enough. "I congratulate you for causing me discomfort, I suppose, _Anubis_? Maybe you might conjure fire to warm me anew? If I insisted? If I recall, those are the two destructive elements your kind actually know how to use."

Anubis sneered. "Oh, I'll conjure something...!"

His hand took hold of Zenos' leg, his metal greaves. His eyes lit up and his aura sang with sudden intensity; and just as suddenly, lightning cascaded out of his hand and into the body of the Garlean as Anubis half-coughed, half-cackled in triumph. " _You forgot about_ **_lightning_ ** _, sweetling_ ," he crowed. He didn't even seem to pay mind to his own burning hands; just focusing on sending the lightning into the body of Zenos, on doing as much damage as possible.

Desperate to break the circuit, the Ascian shifted positions too fast to see, driving a kick into Anubis/Angel's stomach that sent him rolling across the ground and made him vomit blood. Ice gasped aloud...

And yet that desperate attack had not only shattered Zenos' mask, revealing the prince's grimacing face, his expression seemed to be twitching, as if not fully under control. His limbs trembled, his body shuddered violently...and then, with a gesture, a hole made of shadows appeared in the air, and swallowed him up.

They'd done it. They'd driven him off.

As soon as he could stand, Ice was moving over to the side of Angel...of "Anubis"...whichever he was at the moment, this was still his husband's body! Yuki and Sumire made their way over to Shoto. Yuki pulled the Scholar onto her back, amongst arguments from Sumire, but she would clearly hear _none_ of it--Sumire was using his damaged lance to stand, and his arm was visibly injured; he could barely carry himself. She shook her head and took off with Shoto on her back. The Dragoon pinned his ears back for a moment, sighed visibly, then followed after the Viera as quickly as he could.

Anubis shakily pushed himself up as Ice arrived by his side, but he was too weak to hold himself up. Ice caught him as he fell, and scooped him into his arms. There was a lot of blood... It was hard to pinpoint a 'main' source, whether it had been that last violent kick or... 

Ice only knew that they needed to get to the nearest evacuation point as quickly as possible. Cid was flying survivors from the Ghimlyt Dark out for the Alliance, he'd surely be there soon enough. 

As he walked, a groan in not-quite-Angel's-voice made Ice realize that "Anubis" was still conscious.

"...Anubis, right?" He began with the question, trying to keep any of his swirling emotions from affecting his voice too much. The mage nodded once, wearily.

"...Was what he said...true? You're..."

"Yes...and no," Anubis replied. "I'm...not Angel, no, but...I'm not...some interloper, either...I'm not...a bloody _voidsent_ , or some such...We're connected."

"So, then... you're... part of Angel...?"

"So to... speak. I can't... really... be _removed_... if that's... what you're... asking...?"

"...Where... is Angel then...?"

"Unconscious." Anubis shrugged. "Has been...since he got thrown."

"But you're moving around."

".....Consciousness... is a funny thing," Anubis winced, then leaned against Ice. The Warrior furrowed his brows and grumbled a little, but...he didn't reject Anubis' movement at all, and realized something almost amusing.

"Hn...If I think about it...you're definitely part of him," the Warrior sighed, though he smirked. Anubis looked up, a slight blush and pout on his pained face. 

"Oh...? Why... d'you say that...?"

"Well, I seem to have the same effect on you."

There was a pause, as if Ice's joke failed to land, but... then there was a laugh. A slightly different laugh to Angel's. A different cadence and tone. Ice realized his voice was indeed slightly different... but, it was still mostly Angel's. Pale green eyes looked up, glowing just slightly as if a pair of white-hot coals. The black thread around his neck flickered into wispy smoke for a moment. A pained smile sat on his face... which then shifted into a sad one. He glanced down to his left hand; injured, but not quite broken.

"Heh...Hn. I think...I like you. Even if you're not... the first one... to give him... a ring..."

"I know," Ice replied calmly, softly. Anubis closed his eyes for a moment, his voice quieted a bit further.

"I couldn't help..."

"Like you did today?"

"I," Anubis growled a little in frustration, "I couldn't stop anything. We both knew... that idiot... was lying. But we... we had to go. I did force him. I made him... follow Shoto... and... left," Anubis flinched in Ice's arms.

" _You_ were... the one... from that Echo, back then, from the Wall... not Angel."

"Ah... so today isn't quite our first...our first meeting," Anubis smiled a bit, his own consciousness fading from pain and blood loss. "Truth be told... I... like you... like I said... S-So... We'll..."

He coughed hard, into his hand; blood was on his palm. Ice hadn't looked down yet, he was too focused on hurrying back to camp behind Sumire and Yuki with Shoto.

"Damn... I was... hoping... for more time... to talk," Anubis faded, and Ice felt him slump in his arms. He hurried forwards, as fast as he could, almost overtaking Yuki as they fled the killing ground of the Ghimlyt Dark...

* * *

"Ice...?"

The soft calling of his name shook the Warrior from his thoughts. Angel had noticed him seemingly staring off into nothing in the shower unmoving. Ice moved to finish cleaning himself off, "Sorry, I'm fine. Just, erm... _distracted_ is all."

Angel chewed his lip slightly...but he decided to leave it alone. 

The two Miqo'te dried themselves off with towels as swiftly as they could, then got dressed for the day, Ice leading them back to the kitchenette area of their room afterwards. The Warrior gathered some supplies to pack into their bags.

"Well, we ought to be heading out soon. We can meet up with the others before leaving the city for our assignment," Ice finished that last word as a stifled yawn. ' _Hm... Sandwiches for the trip should be quick and easy,_ ' he thought to himself as he turned to get some of the bread he'd bought the night before.

Angel nodded, and took a deep breath in and out as he reached up to hold the side of his head. The bath and the time to calm down had cured most of what ailed him; but he still had that lingering headache from the end of his terrible dream, and probably from the stress of...everything.

Ice glanced over, and immediately noticed his husband holding his head, "love, are you _sure_ you'll be okay...?"

Angel nodded, still holding his head, "Yeah," he sighed, rubbing his forehead, his tone weary. "It's probably just... all the stuff Emet-Selch said in Shoto's room last night."

He froze; his eyes widened instantly.

The words had fallen from his lips before he knew it. He almost wanted to grab them out of the air, but it was too late, he'd spoken them without thinking, and...

《 _...I mean... that's not how_ **_I'd_ ** _have brought him up, but--_ 》

 _"Shut up!"_ He covered his mouth as soon as he'd sniped at himself, but the damage was done. His stomach felt like it would fall out of his body.

For Ice's part, his eyes were saucer-wide, and the knife he was using to make the sandwiches clattered on the floor.

What was Angel saying? That wasn't possible. It didn't make sense, he...he had to be confused. He wasn't thinking straight.

"Angel," Ice said softly. "That was part of the dream, or the Echo, or something, right? Because... _Emet-Selch is gone_ . We _killed_ that _monster_ , Angel. We saved Norvrandt. Which he was trying to destroy. So, he can't have..."

He trailed off. He couldn't bear to finish the sentence; not when Angel could barely meet his gaze. The dark-haired Miqo'te's eyes were filling with tears, and he was shaking like a leaf all over again. A pit formed in Ice's own stomach, one of dread, and his head throbbed with a dull pain.

"I-I'm sorrrry! I'm sorrrrry!! I-I wanted to tell you last night, but...Everrrything happened...A-And I was so tirrred, and I was scarrred, a-and I needed you, _please_ , Ice, d-don't...I'm _sorrrry_...!!" Angel was sobbing again, his hands threatened to tear the cloth of his sky-blue robe in their grip, his ears pinned tightly back.

"...Emet-Selch is alive," Ice breathed, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"...Y-yes...And...He's...He's...i-in...Sh...Shoto's...rrroom...I...Sh-sh-she, please, Ice, I--"

Ice smiled sadly, his face a rictus, his mind numb. Without thinking, he pulled Angel into his arms, shaking his head. "Shh. Angel. It's okay. Now I understand. This is why everything went wrong, huh?" He laughed a little, the sound hollow. Inside his heart, rage was beginning to build.  
  
But not towards his husband. No. Angel wouldn't have thought it was alright to leave that...that monster, that world-eater, alone with their friend, without either Shoto's foolhardy insistence that she could "take care of herself" or the Ascian's vile powers and mind games.

Or both. Or all of them. Maybe even throw in another kind of threat, not just to Shoto. They were here in the Crystarium. He'd already proven he could walk right into the heart of the Ocular whenever he pleased. He'd already kidnapped the Exarch after he'd nearly killed him, and in front of Angel, too; in front of Ice's beloved, who'd already seen so much death.

How dare he. _How_ **_dare_ ** _he._ People who died should remain dead, but this monster flouted even that universal law.  
  
"It's not your fault," he said, and meant it, even if his voice was brittle. "I get it. I really do. He probably did... _something_ to make sure you couldn't say anything, even as much as you meant to. Maybe magic, maybe otherwise, it doesn't matter. I forgive you, love."

"Ice," Angel whimpered, and the Warrior parted from him, gently kissed his forehead.

"Go find Lyna. Alert the guards, alert the Scions, tell Sumire and Yuki."

"Wh...?" Angel blinked, confused, "B-But...Wh-What are y-you...?"

"I'm going to kill him," Ice said simply, and the rage cracked into his voice for the first time. He stepped gently away from his husband, and he went to the door without another word, his vision almost turning crimson--he couldn't keep the rage under control anymore. He was going to save his friend. He was going to find the Ascian.

_He was going to return him to the grave._

Clutching his weapon in his right hand, Ice threw open the door in a hurry to head down the hall to Shoto's room, and what began as a walk became a sprint.

"I-Ice! W-Wait! P-Please let me e-explain!?!" 

Angel knocked over the chair beside him as he hurried after his husband. Ice's running and head start meant he was clearly going to make it down the hall before he'd catch him, but he tried valiantly to catch up. He repeated his calls of "Ice!" and "Wait!", but he already knew the Warrior wasn't going to stop, not until he was face-to-face with the Ascian in Shoto's room. This was why he had been afraid to tell Ice about Emet-Selch in the first place...

Angel knew Ice would make good on his words...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Editor) Elidibus Says: WOW, THIS CHAPTER WAS A JERK TO WORK ON, I TELL YOU WHAT. 
> 
> For those of you wondering, no, you didn't miss a release! But last week everything got messed up by shit like Xehnis starting a new IRL job, and a heaping helping of writer's block, and such as Circumstances; so we decided, in our infinite wisdom, to just skip a cycle. Not this week, though! This week you get a PIPING HOT NEW CHAPTER! (Even if it's slightly delayed! Sorry about that!)
> 
> Stay tuned for next week's chapter on Sunday, October 25th! Ice is on the warpath to go say hello to Emet-Selch! That can only end well, right?! 8D
> 
> We also post our chapters on Tumblr: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can read these chapters with screenshots/artwork, see the character bios, read any side stories, and see the Chapter List, or perhaps see any updates we can't post here. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	11. Tense Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good Morning, Ascian! Holmgang?
> 
> Ice arrives at Shoto's room, well ahead of his husband. The Warriors become rockstars in a hotel room. Will anyone click the dialog option?
> 
> The story takes place after the end of Shadowbringers; Post-Patch 5.0; the latest expansion for the game. This is a group effort among friends in the telling of this story.
> 
> The writers involved are: Xehnis, Angel, and Elidibus.

Emet-Selch awoke with a start, sweat on his brow, his golden eyes flashing open--and quickly recognized the room in the Pendants, felt the cooling pulse of his blood.

 _'Just a dream, then,'_ he thought to himself...perhaps it was silly to be relieved, but he felt so nonetheless. A quick glance downward confirmed for the Paragon that Shoto was still asleep in his arms...he let himself breathe out a soft sigh, his formerly racing heart returning to a normal and steady rhythm. He was glad, too, that his nightmare hadn't woken her, he found.

_'...For convenience's sake, of course. She'd fuss if I woke her with a nightmare, and I'd grumble, and I'd be right to. Such things are beneath me.'_

...The moment he thought it, he recognized that line of thought as complete rationalization. Convenience's sake, his foot. If anyone else had said something like that to him, he'd have laughed in their face, told them straightforwardly that they were deep in denial. The only grain of truth there was that he _did_ resent the nightmare, because it _was_ beneath him.

But he was glad he hadn't woken her because of the peaceful smile on her face, and the soft warmth of her body against his (her temperature had leveled out! It was nearly back to normal), and the desire to protect those things, to protect _her_ , which was worming its way into his long-empty heart like a particularly pernicious flowering vine.

...He wanted to ask _why_. Shoto wasn't...

 _Hythlodaeus saw the color. So do you,_ his traitor mind whispered to him.

That didn't mean anything! Colors could be very similar, especially when one dealt with souls!

_You started talking to her about the Bond of Eternity what, five minutes after your reunion?_

It had been closer to three bells! And she'd asked! What was the harm in answering mortal questions?

_You tell me, brilliant Angel of Truth._

Hades closed his eyes and growled wordlessly at himself to be silent--  
  
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!!

The Ascian blinked in surprise.

_'I didn't say anything! Or--'_

The door made another helpful repetition of the sound of impact, accentuated by the sound of _splintering_ and the glint of a blade piercing through the door. Ah. So this wasn't an errant accident of sorcery, or some problem presented by his newly sundered, newly limited form. No, this was because the door was _under attack._

 _Now_ Shoto was stirring, although this was fairly natural given the circumstances. He gave the door a positively venomous glare as he began to extricate himself from the sleeping embrace he'd ended up in with her...  
  
 _'Very well then, my old friend. You promised I could still make nations tremble,'_ he thought in Elidibus' general direction, a cruel smirk creasing his lips. _'Let's see how true that is.'_

* * *  
Ice had tried the doorknob exactly once. It was locked and not willing to budge, which only contributed to his state of fury. After that, he decided not to bother with the door. He'd apologize to Shoto later. He'd even craft her a new door, a better door. This one had to go.

He slammed his axe into the door's latch mechanism, bringing it down like the knob and the lock were a gremlin in desperate need of smiting. The lock shuddered at the first several strikes, and then gave way completely--but the latch was still stuck. Snarling, Ice grit his teeth and violently slammed his foot into the door; the door creaked in protest, and he heard wood snapping.  
  
With one more mighty blow of his axe, the door was shattered in two pieces, and Ice leapt into the room, his voice a roar. " **_EMET-SELCH!!!_ ** _FACE ME, YOU_ **_COWARD!!!_ ** _"_

The object of his challenge... looked up from the bed, where he was bent like a vampire over Shoto's slowly stirring form. Like he'd...!!

Ice's anger hit a new fever pitch, one he hadn't known existed. Nothing could hold him back now. " _Holmgang!_ " he invoked, the command word seething with magical power--golden chains, lined with an aura of fire, wrapped around Emet-Selch's arms, binding the Ascian in place, keeping him away from Ice's friend, though he was still far too close...

Ice could split the difference. He invoked the rite of _Nascent Flash,_ his aether surging through the earth to flash a bright green, vaguely dome-like envelope of energy over Shoto's form momentarily. That'd protect her; now he could focus on Emet-Selch...!! His axe sparking along the floor, he charged.

Hades' eyes narrowed and flared with energy as his own aether surged with power; his dark lips moved, impossible words spilling from his lips, the ancient incantation finding form as tendrils of shadow that blasted outwards in a cone, slamming into the axe and stopping its mighty swing cold, several fulms from the Ascian's body. He cracked his neck and the golden chains snapped.

"I might've known it'd be _you_ , little Warrior," the Paragon drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Careless, hotheaded, eager to please your accursed Mother. Tch. Perhaps you might try cooling your heels? Using your words?"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Ice snarled. "I'll kill you all over again for what you've done to her...for how you used _him_ ...!!" He brought back the axe and an aura of aetheric power flared around his blade as he struck from another angle; the Ascian snapped his fingers, and sparks flew from the impact point as it met a barrier of violet shadows.  
  
"Or, I suppose, you could spout nonsense at me, and we could be reduced to _barbarism_ ," Emet-Selch sighed, rolling his eyes. "I've done nothing to anyone, fool."

" ** _LIAR!!!_ **"

The aether around the axe-blade flared to a brilliant blue zenith, seared like a white-hot flame as it released in a single, violent cleaving motion that tore through the barrier of shadow; the swing had lost its momentum, though, and only nicked Emet-Selch's cheek, bringing a bright red line of blood from the Ascian's skin, dripping down his face.

The teeth of the Paragon ground together.

"...But if _you_ are going to insist on being a _violent cur_ ," he hissed, "I'll gladly **_discipline you_ **."

Shadows swam around the Ascian, and for a moment his form seemed massive, inhuman, horrifying--then they solidified around his right arm, burning black and red, forming the mighty claw of his Elder Form. With an effortless swipe, he slashed across Ice's chest, shearing through the thick leather, and sending the Warrior flying into the wall with an enormous crash. Bowls and plates left on a nearby table tumbled to the ground.

Ice's vision swam, and he coughed. His ears were ringing--he heard someone calling his name. Had to get up.

Shoto's awakening, if it could be called that, was both rude and violent, but it was also slow. She recognized the sounds of a fight before she was fully awake--it made her ears back and her hair stand on end. As her eyes opened, blinked through the cobwebs of sleep, she was already trying to scramble out of bed, fighting the covers...her mind spun as she tried to orient herself, figure out where she was and what was happening more fully.

It was the exchange of words between Emet-Selch and Ice that jogged her groggy memory--she'd overdone it, collapsed, fallen asleep against the Ascian; her face flushed at the realization, but adrenaline overpowered embarrassment or her emotional turmoil. She had no idea how Ice had gotten in here, but that wasn't important right now; scrambling to leave the bed, she made it instead to the floor, on one knee; raising her hands, she looked between Ice and the Ascian to try and calm the situation down.

"H-Hold! Both of you--Ice! Please, just listen--"

"Run, Shoto. Get _away_ from this monster... I'll keep him occupied!"

The Warrior was too dazed and far too angry to turn his attention away from Emet-Selch; being thrown into the wall and the table had only solidified and redoubled his fury. He shook his head to clear it, then used his axe to stand up once more; his expression hardened with resolve. Emet-Selch had proven himself just as dangerous as he ever was, and Ice meant to answer him in kind.

"That's not..." Shoto began, but Ice charged forwards once again; a red, aetheric aura swirling around him as his eyes flickered red; he brought down his greataxe in a wide curve, merciless, towards Hades.

The Ascian sneered and snapped his fingers. A shield of dark violet energies, seething and hissing, met the greataxe's blade like a wall. Emet-Selch wasn't done; whipping up his other hand, he gestured sharply with two fingers, his dark-tinted aether surging around him as ornate circles of Amaurotine glyphs formed in mid-air...  
  
Bolts of dark violet, almost crystallized energy were loosed from each circle like missiles, flying at Ice; they struck with explosive force when they hit, driving the Warrior back once more and turning the already damaged table and chairs into confetti. Shoto's ears were ringing, and her vision swam.

It was into this melee that Angel was thrust when he arrived, breathless and shaking; his husband's charge and the destruction of Shoto's door had drawn the attention of half the Pendants, and Angel had been forced to push past several valid, groggy inquiries from their neighbors. But like Ice, Angel's focus was razor-sharp; the White Mage had broken into a sprint when he saw the destroyed door, and he nearly tumbled over the threshold...his eyes snapped to his husband before he even registered Shoto or spoke a word. Before he _could,_ however, Emet-Selch snapped his hand across in a savage chop, and a wall of shadowy projectiles seemed to form, thrumming in mid-air.

"Angel...No! _GET DOWN!!_ " Ice shouted; leaping between Angel and the incoming bolts, he concentrated his aether into a sphere of crimson energy, golden thorns seeming to encircle him and crackle off his form as Hades' shadowy energy blasts slammed home. They hurt, especially now that he was taking the full force of the assault, but far less than they might have; he could simply shake this damage off. 

"Ice...! I-I've, I've got you!" Angel managed; with a gesture, his cane was in his hand, and magical words of healing left his lips, the soft blue light of his White Magic seeming to gently wash away Ice's wounds. The Warrior cracked his neck and gave a confident smirk to their opponent, whose eyes only narrowed in scorn.

Shoto coughed from the floor and struggled her way to a standing position, trying to wave away dust. She opened her mouth to demand they lis--

The glowing form of an Emerald Carbuncle soared through the room towards the Ascian's face, its tiny claws swiping across his cheek before the Paragon could counter, leaving him to stumble back and send a blind lash of shadowy power in its general direction. The nimble familiar dodged, weaved, and leapt back to the side of Yuki, the Summoner already unfurling her grimoire as she stepped through the ruined doorway; her violet-haired Dragoon compatriot rushed in after her, calling his spear out of the aether as his armor clicked into proper place.  
  
"Not every day a nemesis comes back from the dead," the Viera quipped under her breath to Sumire, before her attentions were consumed with calling ruinous energies into her fingertips, her hand weaving arcanima patterns; a massive burst of the energies screamed towards Emet-Selch, who barely managed to stop it with a swipe of his left hand. His glare had shifted from scornful to murderous....

And as they watched, his lips curled into a cruel grin.  
  
"Fine. _All of you_ , then," the Ascian purred. 

He raised his right hand and languidly circled his wrist three times, cracking his neck. And then he snapped his fingers, sharply.  
  
Panels of dark crystal, perfectly cut into squares, formed at his command, like doors in reality. A moonlight glow built in them all as they arranged themselves into a lethal array. Shoto's eyes went wide and she built her voice to scream, this was too much, they had to stop, everyone had to--

The array fired, beams of shadow screaming towards the assembled Warriors of Light and Darkness, save Shoto, and would've torn through armor and flesh had it not been for a brilliant sky-blue barrier of burning energy, a sanctuary amidst the storm, emanating from Angel's aether and the shining, beacon-like zenith of his cane, his White Magic redoubling to keep his companions safe from harm, though it only kept safe about a fulm's length all around them.  
  
The bench to Angel's left hadn't been so lucky, the beams having carved it neatly into two pieces. Nor had Shoto's armoire--the same dresser that Shoto had fetched her sheets from and Emet-Selch's current attire was now full of smoldering holes. Nothing in the entryway was in decent shape by any stretch of the imagination, and the fight didn't seem to show many signs of letting up; indeed, Hades, his amber eyes glowing and a soft, almost soundless chuckle coming from his lips, had raised his fingers and snapped again.  
  
Another array of arcane projectiles, forged from those same ornate gates of shadow in the air, beckoned to his call. Despite the sounds of armored boots in the hallway, and shouts of "Wicked White!" and "in the name of the Exarch!", Hades didn't stop--even as Crystarium guards piled into the room, he let the arcane arrows fly, leaving terrible wakes of violet destruction as they screamed down.  
  
Angel squeaked and winced visibly in terror, but though his fear was evident, his willingness to stand fast and the magical asylum he was providing with his shield of light only redoubled, the field widening; he knew the only real course of action was to make sure the shield encompassed everyone and stayed solid, and though it meant he couldn't move, though he was staring death in the face, he didn't falter. Ice swung his axe to deflect an incoming bolt, and Sumire leapt into action, three of the projectiles ricocheting off his spinning spear as he moved acrobatically. Even the little carbuncle contributed, leaping up to deflect one of the arcane projectiles with a shield of its own, so that once more the primary casualty was Shoto's apartment, as the damaged armoire was now turned into a mess of wood splinters and cloth, and a ricochet nearly took off the headboard of the bed.

But what triumph they had was short-lived. Hades' fingers snapped again, and another volley cracked Angel's shield; the energies wavered. The White Mage's concentration held it in place, but he was clearly struggling; there was no way the barrier would survive another round of attacks. Ice bit his lip as he looked over his shoulder at his husband, then his gaze flicked back to Emet-Selch--there was no opening to attack the Ascian just yet, a fact he could tell Sumire was grimly aware of too. Yuki was tracing arcanima patterns to call a large burst of ruinous power from her hands, but the Ascian had noticed this well enough, and looked to be calling his shadowy aetheric shield back into form...  
  
Shoto's voice, after the cavalcade of interruptions, finally rang out through the conflict. " _STOP THIS!_ " she cried out, standing up shakily and on unsteady legs, her eyes pleading with Emet-Selch, begging him to listen. Surprisingly, the Paragon's attention turned to her, wavered--

In a misjudgment worthy of the Azure Dragoon himself, Sumire took the brief opening, leaping and diving for the Ascian's position; indeed, he'd been so quick to leap, that the Scholar hadn't had time to register that he'd even moved. 

But his weapon didn't strike true. Hades swung up his hand and focused the shield of darkness around the driving lance-point, his eyes filled with cold aggravation as they locked with Sumire; the hapless Dragoon tried to drive his weapon through the Ascian's dark shield, to no avail. The Paragon's other arm shot up as he directed dark tendrils from the ground, and the Dragoon tried to propel himself back, but only ended up taking the shadow-tendril square to the chest. Yuki growled loudly at the sight, then quickly fired her gathered blast of energy as her carbuncle jumped forwards and spun to slash the Ascian. The blast was swatted aside by the tendrils, into the privacy screen by the door, which was now more a series of privacy splinters, while the carbuncle herself was knocked into Angel's barrier with a surprised squeak.

Angel's barrier shattered on impact, and the carbuncle hit him in the chest. He fell back onto the broken bench, which couldn't catch him properly. The White Mage landed on his knees with the carbuncle in front of him.

"Angel!?" Ice turned, forgetting the Ascian for a moment, to check on his husband. Angel was out of breath as he knelt on the ground. Ice lowered his axe, put a hand on the White Mage's shoulder, and felt him shaking a bit from having maintained that barrier longer than he should have. "Are you alright...?!"

Angel's ears pinned back against his head with his eyes shut. He shook his head in response, " _No... No more... stop._ " His voice was barely a whisper. 

The guards were trying not to panic; one of them fired a crossbow bolt at Emet-Selch, which was cast aside by another tendril of shadow as the Angel of Truth closed his eyes in grim concentration, calling his dark arrows to him again. Sumire was standing up, painfully, Yuki's carbuncle covering him as the Summoner ran forwards and tugged Shoto back, trying to get her away from the zone of destruction that was rapidly enveloping the entire room.

Anubis growled in Angel's head, begging the White Mage to let him try and settle this.

《 _Angel! Please! I know I might not win... but you know I can give enough time to turn the tide in our favor!_ 》

"S-Stop... _please_ ," Angel begged quietly, as he clenched his eyes tighter. 

At the same time, Shoto spoke the same words; desperate and loud. Ice stood and turned towards the Ascian, snarling; and once more, the Ascian snapped his fingers, volleys of destruction shearing down. The Warrior deflected a few more arrows that had been aimed towards the guards beside him; which completely disintegrated the bench nearby them and the couch behind them. 

The White Mage's ears flicked at a soft ringing within them; a sound he'd long-since associated with Anubis... along with the itchy feeling around his neck. He didn't want to set the room ablaze, nor try to freeze someone into a block of ice. Those desires and impulses weren't his, they _couldn't_ be...

Anubis growled louder in frustration, then snapped sharply and loudly in Angel's head. 

《 **_Let me fight this battle for you!_ **》

Angel took a sharp breath in at those words, and it caught in his throat; his eyes suddenly flew open. Another arcane spear clipped his cheek as it suddenly flew past him; he should have dodged in fear, but he knelt there frozen and wide-eyed.

Words instantly came to mind, the name 'Asopus' was whispered into his ears. Another word bubbled up... A name he felt he hadn't said in a long time, yet did not recall naming any of his strays such...

《 _Angel!_ **_Answer_ ** _me!!_ 》

"A..."

The White Mage hesitated, but his husband flew past him once more, back towards the wall, slapped by one of the shadowy tendrils Emet-Selch was wielding, as the Paragon simply focused his shield of darkness against the full-strength cleave that Ice had brought down. The Warrior angrily got right back up, but he paused as he looked over to Angel. 

One word was cried out, echoing over the fighting in a scared and desperate voice. 

" ** _Ambrosia!!_** "

In the midst of calling his mirrors forth again, Emet-Selch paused, blinking, distracted for the second time this fight. His thoughts of vengeance, the high of reveling in his own power, were cut off...that name. He knew that name. How...?

A quick, chimed bell echoed; it was similar in sound to a carbuncle or a faerie when they were summoned, but... the tone was more unique. In front of Angel landed the glowing, orange cat that Ice had recognized last night as Tora. Sumire and Yuki had stopped short as well, since it looked like the phantom cat that had led them to Angel last night. Shoto's own voice was stopped as she noticed the glowing, orange cat in front of Angel... who had confessed to strange creatures appearing around him.

Sharp bells followed the creature's swift leaps; the first was from in front of the visibly stunned Angel, directly at Ice.

The Warrior had every intention to return to the fight, but the ghost cat tackled him in the chest and knocked him back onto his ass; he landed on the remnants of the couch. He reached up to rub at his chest; that had felt pretty solid to be a "ghost"...

The creature's next two leaps were from Ice to the floor, then tackled the Ascian right in the upper chest. It had tried to hit his throat, judging by its angle. Emet-Selch had been distracted enough to take the full, rolling tackle, and bounced onto the damaged bed; which broke it completely. Between Ice and Emet-Selch, the cat seemed to gain two new tails. Its final leap was to keep one of the younger guards from taking advantage of the Ascian's stun and attacking him with a sword strike; and it seemed to gain some fluff upon impact.

The creature then landed between the others and a silent, stunned Angel; a lean, fluffy, orange creature with three tails and tiny paws. On its head was a golden triangle that faded into the orange by the time it hit the back. The creature's eyes were glowing a bright gold. It twitched rhythmically, echoing a carbuncle... but it was not one itself. Soft, soothing bells rang gently as it looked to Angel and moved its mouth, who seemed to hear something.

Tears fell, unbidden, from the Miqo'te's emerald eyes; he still knelt there stunned, and wide-eyed. After a moment's pause, Angel nodded once; the creature bounded over to him, then leapt as if to tackle again.

"Ang--" Ice started, but his husband held out his arms to catch it. It moved swiftly, but Angel somehow did just that. The mage felt the creature happily nuzzle under his chin before it disappeared into a burst of soft bells. His breath hitched as he forced himself not to burst into tears. He didn't understand why he felt this way, nor what exactly had just happened. Ice hurried back to his side, and put an arm over his back.

Emet-Selch stood up and recovered from the tackle. He moved to seize the moment, but immediately felt Shoto's arms wrap around his waist from beside him. When had she moved over to him? He was unsure... but there were tears on her face, and her voice threatened to break as she looked up to him. 

...He was suddenly aware that, now that he wasn't indulging in the power of his arcana...he felt...very tired. That had been...That had been _all he could do_ , right now, like this.

"Stop it..." She couldn't watch him harm her friends; this was entirely her fault. She dropped her forehead against his chest as she held on. She tried to hide her tears, her voice quieted to a whisper " _...please._ "

Sumire looked to Yuki, who was focused on the Ascian, and growling; neither of them knew what to do. Angel was still trying to deal with the sudden, strange, new feelings and emotions he couldn't place, with Ice's support. The guards, of course, were terrified, confused, and understandably on the defensive.

There was a moment of silence and stillness after Shoto's plea... then the tendrils and aura of darkness died down and faded away, the shadows around him melting like they'd never been there. His touch was gentle and unexpected; fingers moved under her chin to get her to look up at him. His thumb then moved across her cheek to wipe away some of her tears; his voice quiet, and barely audible, even a little brittle. "There's no need to cry, hero."

Immediately after his defenses were gone, another word was sharply called from behind the Crystarium guards.

" ** _Break!_** "

Emet-Selch hitched as his body's movement was severely slowed. Violet and black swirls of energy clung to his legs. Immediately after, a sharp clang of metal against tile bound the Ascian's wrists together with blue crystal. Shoto stumbled back away from the Paragon. Angel jumped at the sudden spell. The guards turned, then stepped aside for the Crystal Exarch.

His guard captain, Lyna, followed him, the Viis blinking at the devastation that had been wrought on Shoto's corner of the Pendants. She whispered a quiet, surprised "Wicked White" to the scene.

The Crystal Exarch focused solely on Emet-Selch despite the work to keep him controlled. His face was quite cold; his ruby eyes glared piercingly _through_ the Ascian as he stood powerfully before him. He stood between this threat and his friends as well as the people of the Crystarium. Everything in his stance showed this without a word spoken.

Angel looked up, focused on G'raha. Ice gently hugged him, and he leaned into his husband's protective hold, but felt like he needed to watch his friend standing before them.

"Is all of this really necessary, _dearest_ Exarch?" Hades tried for bravado, but found his own voice felt surprisingly...petulant, given the situation.

"Pray forgive the abundance of caution," the Exarch's face was still stern, but a slight growl underlaid the rest of his sentence. "But you shot me in the back once before, and I thought it best to make sure history did not repeat itself."

Ice felt his husband jerk against him with a hitched breath and a squeak at the mention. Angel clearly recalled seeing G'raha drop in front of him, and he remembered feeling suddenly very cold... and he knew he'd called out his name, but... he remembered nothing else. Ice; and the others; however would remember the momentary image of a Sin Eater that flickered over the White Mage's features. It hadn't been brought up again since it happened... The Warrior hugged the mage against him protectively, and whispered that it was okay. They weren't all on the edge of bursting with Primordial Light anymore, but Angel _had_ just summoned a strange creature and could probably summon something else. Anubis would likely be very willing to set fire to the room; neither outcome was desirable at the moment. Ice tried to help calm him down while the Exarch dealt with the Ascian.

"...... _Fair point_ ," Emet-Selch replied flatly, after a moment's thought. He shrugged in an attempt to play it off a bit. He felt the exhaustion from pushing a bit too far with his powers at the moment--yet, he dare not show them any weakness in this moment.

Shoto spoke next, "This is _my_ fault, Exarch," she turned to face him, "I never meant for things to spiral out of control like this." The female Miqo'te took a step forward, but faltered, and began to fall as she was still quite drained. 

Emet-Selch fought against his bindings in an attempt to catch her, but to no avail. Instead, the violet-haired Miqo'te, the Dragoon, managed to swiftly catch her before she could hit the ground.

"Careful, Shoto," Sumire said, his tone worried.

"Perhaps you should...erm...Yes, you should definitely sit down, Shoto," Yuki closed her grimoire, as her carbuncle moved to stand beside her. "You don't seem to be in any condition to argue," the Viera added sternly. 

Shoto frowned, but let Sumire help her stand for now. She stubbornly refused to sit on the only piece of furniture that seemed untouched; the desk chair.

"I would really, truly like to understand what in the actual Hells happened this morning," the Exarch looked over his friends as he sighed, bringing his crystalline arm up to rub his temples, and ignored the fact that his frustration had slipped through. He also forced himself to ignore that the door, and large portions of the room, were so completely destroyed they'd need to commission every Facet in the Crystalline Mean to repair the place.

It was enough that those he treasured were...alright. For a given values of alright.

Yuki and Sumire seemed okay, just a bit worn out from fighting. Ice looked injured, but no more so than from a normal battle. Shoto looked like she'd completely exhausted herself, but he had no idea why. The Exarch paused as he looked to Angel, who seemed almost completely frazzled just since yesterday.

"My lord," Lyna paused as she leaned a little towards the Exarch. Her voice was concerned, "I do believe we should continue this conversation elsewhere."

"I agree." He looked to Emet-Selch. "Lyna," she saluted at her name, "Take the prisoner into custody."

"Right away." The Viis gestured to two guards. Each guard moved to take hold of the bound Ascian's arms; she followed closely behind. Emet-Selch once more glanced over to Shoto in an attempt to observe the state of her condition. Their eyes met for but a moment; there was untold sorrow when she looked at him. Clearly, the Scholar truly blamed herself for this. He shook his head and simply smirked; for now, he would leave it up to her friends to care for her. 

The Crystal Exarch watched the Crystarium guards leave the room, then looked back to his friends. His voice softened a little, still clearly concerned. "Pray take your time to settle from all of this... but... there's much to discuss. I would have you all reconvene in the Ocular when you're ready. Our... _guest_ shan't be going anywhere, if I have anything to say about it."

He waited just long enough for them to give a reply, then left to deal with the mess from this morning.

* * *  
It took a full bell before the whole group was settled into the Ocular. Most of them were now more alert and awake; Yuki and Sumire, specifically, had taken the time to get dressed, and now both sported their traveling attire. The Dragoon rubbed tiredly at his right eye as he stood beside the Summoner. Yuki's carbuncle bounced happily at Sumire's feet then moved over to Angel. 

The black-haired Keeper sat on the floor by the wall for the moment. The carbuncle hopped into his lap without pause, and Angel petted her gently. Ice stood beside Angel, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. Shoto sat nearby on the floor of the Ocular trying to preserve her strength. After a few moments, the Crystal Exarch entered from the Umbilicus, then the door closed behind him. His staff was on his back, and he looked more thoughtful than usual as he moved over to his usual position before the mirror.

"I'm glad to see everyone is safe," he began. The Allagan Miqo'te flicked his ears as he once more looked over his friends; then sighed softly. "It is certainly unnecessary to speak of this morning's events. What I am puzzled about is the fact that a certain individual; slain only weeks ago by all of you; is now alive and well once more."

Nearly all eyes were suddenly on Shoto; she had loudly apologized and said this was her fault... but how was she going to explain this? The Scholar opened her mouth, but words wouldn't form. Instead, her mind was stuck on the Ascian; Emet-Selch. That same guilt gnawed at her, like a bile that wanted to come up into her throat. She'd _chosen_ to heal his wounds, which had _caused_ this whole situation. Emet-Selch had _saved_ her, and he was now paying the price for her choice. Instead of continuing to fight the others, he stopped when she had pleaded and grabbed him. 

She looked around the Ocular, then words finally formed on her tongue, "...Wh-Where is... Emet-Selch...?"

The Crystal Exarch blinked at her question, taken aback. He actually looked to the others, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her question correctly. Yuki frowned, as did Ice, neither of them were pleased about her first question. Sumire looked over to Angel, who was still half curled up with the carbuncle on his lap; he hadn't once looked up to the others since they settled in. The Exarch turned to look back to Shoto, but before he or any of the others could respond, the Scholar stood and used the wall to steady herself.

"I think it would be best if he were present for this, so we can all talk." She kept herself steady; her expression was serious.

The red-haired Miqo'te looked at her for a moment, as if he were still trying to gauge her or her request.

He sighed softly, then gave in, "Very well," He turned to look over to the Viis that stood guard over their meeting to make sure no one entered uninvited. "Lyna, if you would, please have your guards escort the prisoner here." Shoto visibly cringed a bit at the word 'prisoner', but the captain simply saluted, then left to give the orders. 

* * *  
Half a bell later, Lyna returned with Emet-Selch in tow. The Ascian gave no resistance; in fact, he walked almost casually behind her. Ice stood up straight, visibly tense, beside his husband--it took something of an effort not to call forth his axe, but he managed, focusing his gaze back to Angel and looking worried once more. The mage had been silent the whole time, and just petted the curled up carbuncle on his lap. 

The Angel of Truth, with an air of lofty dignity, ignored Ice--he ignored everyone in the room, for that matter--save for Shoto. His eyes looked directly to the Scholar; once his eyes fell upon her, he seemed clearly relieved, understanding at a glance that her condition was now much more stable. His smirk became genuinely softened for a moment, and some of the harshness went out of his demeanor.

The Exarch noted the exchange with interest, but he refrained from making a comment for the moment.

"That will be all, Lyna. Thank you." He nodded to the guard captain, who gave him a slight bow in response.

"Yes, my lord." The Viis turned, then stepped outside the Ocular to keep guard. Shoto eyed the restraints, still on his wrists; they looked to be some kind of enchantment. She frowned, then looked to the Exach in a silent plea for him to allow an exception in here. It seemed like the Crystal Exarch didn't understand her look at first. She looked back to the Ascian, almost apologetically.

G'raha grit his teeth, then tapped his cane on the ground, and the restraints around his wrists disappeared. Without looking back to the Ascian, the Exarch focused on Shoto, and spoke calmly and succinctly.

"Now, Shoto, pray, tell us what happened."  
  
Shoto looked to her friends before her, then briefly wondered where she should even begin. "I guess... I should start... w-with the aftermath of our... struggle in the Tempest, at the Dying Gasp," she frowned, as she glanced to the Ascian. She looked immediately back to her friends as she took a breath, "Ever since then... I've felt... an emptiness; a _guilt_."

The Ascian raised an eyebrow at her words, sparing a glance to the Scholar. 

_Guilt...? For my sake...?_ He then shifted quietly in his spot where he stood, and continued to listen; acting as if her comment hadn't piqued his interest.

Shoto turned to more properly face her friends and the Exarch. She ended up taking a few steps towards the Ascian before she continued, "Last night, I brought a badly injured shoebill back to my room to heal him so he could fly again... and--"

"That bird was an _Ascian_ in disguise?" Yuki frowned, as she looked to Emet-Selch. He gestured nonchalantly with his hand, as Shoto just nodded in reply. Sumire looked over to Shoto, then reached up to rub at his right eye again; the tip of his tail flicked against Yuki's coat beside him. He seemed to find it hard to look over in that general direction.

"If you recall, both Angel and I noted how badly injured the bird was," she glanced over to Angel. Though he still hadn't looked up, he nodded once when she paused. "His injuries were just as bad, even in this form." Shoto looked up to Emet-Selch, then paused before she continued, "He was in a lot of pain, and... a-and I," she looked away from him, to the floor, "I couldn't sit back... and just watch someone else die in front of me."

Angel's breath caught in his throat as he winced at those words. He closed his eyes tightly and hugged the carbuncle against him. She wriggled a little at the sudden hug, then nuzzled under his chin.

G'raha noticed Angel's flinch, and frowned sadly. He briefly recalled all the times he had found Angel curled up on blankets in the corner of the library tent of Saint Coinach's Find... reading books about Allag. How many times he'd sat and shared his own stories and knowledge with him. The Exarch's expression softened, and he thought about how vulnerable the mage looked right now; curled up and hugging a carbuncle. He hadn't noticed it before... because he hadn't taken the time to look; hadn't allowed himself that moment of vulnerability.

For Ice's part, he was completely focused on Emet-Selch at the moment; he hadn't heard anything to draw his attention to his husband beside him on the floor. His sudden voice drew everyone's focus back to the present. 

"I'm a bit confused, though," he pointed at the Ascian as his eyes narrowed, suspicious, "How were you so injured that Shoto thought you'd _die_ if she didn't heal you?"

Shoto just blinked at his question; she hadn't thought to ask that last night, she'd just acted instinctively. The Scholar looked to Emet-Selch with a curious expression. He looked back to her, then sighed and gestured languidly, dismissively, with his hand once more.

"All of you _did_ work _very_ hard to put a _rather large hole_ directly through the core of my body, if you'll recall, dear little Warrior. The kind of hole that _kills people_."

"But... _that_ injury was already a scar when I healed you," Shoto replied, quietly.

The Exarch frowned, then returned his attention to the Ascian. "If that was the damage they had sensed, then we all would have known it was you when you fell from the rafters yesterday." His ruby eyes narrowed a little, "And I most _certainly_ wouldn't have let you _leave_."

The Ascian gave a cold look to the Exarch, his gold eyes flashing, though he didn't engage the taunt. After a thoughtful moment, he gave a dismissive sigh, "If you _must_ know, Elidibus and I had a bit of a... shall we say... _spirited discussion_ before I arrived in your _fair_ city, _dearest_ Exarch." The Crystal Exarch remained silent in response.

Ice still felt suspicious; he growled a little, then crossed his arms over his chest, "So you expect us to believe that you and Elidibus are no longer on good terms...?" 

The Ascian gave him another sort of shrug, "You asked how I was injured, _hero_ , I merely answered your _query_."

Ice opened his mouth to respond, but Shoto held her hands up to try to refocus the conversation once more. "What _matters..._ here... is that I healed him yesterday," Shoto took a breath, "I had healed him just the point where he'd have to naturally mend the rest of the way with time." She looked over to Angel once more, "That was before Angel arrived with the medicine and food."

"So," Yuki looked rather unamused, "..at what point did we get to Ice waking up our side of the Pendants in a rage this morning?" The Viera looked between the five Miqo'te and the Ascian in front of her. Her attention was drawn to the White Mage when he drew himself further into a ball.

"Th-That.... w-was... m-my fault," Angel mumbled into the carbuncle's back. Ice blushed a bit in embarrassment at having woken up so many people, but he cleared his throat, then turned his head to look back to the Viera.

"Despite what he says, that was _not_ his fault," Ice immediately defended, "My husband simply told me that an _Ascian_ had spent the night in Shoto's room and I rushed there to save our friend."

"So," Sumire rubbed at his right temple a bit, "Last night... Angel left Emet-Selch alone with Shoto, then passed out in the hall by their room." Shoto blinked, then looked to Angel, who still had his face buried in the carbuncle he was hugging. G'raha looked a little surprised, then also turned to look back over to Angel, but the Scholar beat him to speaking.

" _Angel_ ," Shoto's tone was very worried, "what do they _mean_ you passed out in the hall?"

"I-I don't," he shifted the carbuncle so he could look up to Ice, then over to Shoto. The mage also noticed G'raha's worried look and felt even more apologetic. Ice turned to look down to his husband for a moment, then looked back to Shoto.

"He told me that he had a vision from the Echo in your room last night. It seemed to be a pretty intense one. On his way back, he just sat down to rest in the hall, and fell asleep." Ice sounded slightly defensive, then looked coldly at Emet-Selch, "What I _didn't_ understand what had happened to trigger something bad enough to give him _night_ \--"

"I-Ice, _please_ ," Angel reached up to grasp Ice's hand; to interrupt his husband.

Shoto looked worriedly at her friend. G'raha's eyes widened a bit. Yuki closed her eyes with a frown, and Sumire frowned worriedly. Context had given them all a good idea what the word was that Angel had interrupted.

"Sh-Shoto, continue, i-if you don't mind...?" The White Mage gave them a weak smile when he looked over to the Scholar.

Shoto gave him a very concerned frown, but nodded and continued to explain. "After... After Angel got to the room, we had a conversation on the balcony. We started talking about the strange things we've both been noticing around us... and... about how we sort of felt stronger... ever since that fight," she paused, then glanced to Emet-Selch. "Well... we.... didn't have any other ideas... so," she looked back to her friends, "So we decided to ask _him_ about the things we'd started to notice."

Ice looked back down to Angel. The mage nodded silently, then looked back down to Yuki's carbuncle. The Warrior finally understood what had brought up the topics Angel wanted to talk to him about last night... the topics that seemed to give him night terrors that he hadn't had in a long time.

Ice felt like now he knew why he'd had them... _the Ascian that had caused him so much pain._ The Warrior grit his teeth, but he felt his husband squeeze his hand more insistently in an attempt to calm him a bit.

Shoto noticed his expression. "Ice...?"

"So... _what_... did he say?" Ice asked; he barely kept himself from growling. He pointedly avoided asking Emet-Selch anything directly for the moment, and focused on Shoto. He felt the anger burning within once more. Shoto flicked her ears, worried about how Ice seemed ready to restart the fight that had happened earlier. 

"That... our souls... had gained... another shard... since that fight," she tilted her head a little, "probably _during_ that fight." She gave Ice a small smile, "Do you remember during our talks afterward? When we all admitted we'd each seen one of the Warriors of Light from the First back then...?" She trailed slightly.

Angel then spoke up to try to help keep the conversation going. He still held Ice's hand, and could feel how tense the Warrior was. "Wh-When they... lent us... theirrr strrrength... to... surrrrvive," he looked down to the carbuncle in his arm, "i-it's possible... they werrre... o-ourrrr soul sharrrds... h-herrre... on the Firrrst." Shoto nodded immediately.

The Exarch blinked, then looked to each of his friends at that; they had told him about the phantom Ardbert that followed Shoto, but hadn't previously mentioned the other four Warriors of Light. Yet... these suggestions made a lot of sense. If their souls were fragmented the same as the worlds, then it stood to reason that fragments of them would exist on those worlds. He found that he didn't question any of it with everything he knew to be true. The Allagan Miqo'te looked down to the design on the floor of the Ocular, depicting the Source and its reflections.

Emet-Selch once more raised his eyebrow at their conversation. This was a bit more direct than they'd mentioned last night, and his suspicions felt validated. Those Warriors of the First must have been their soul fragments, that was the only explanation for what he saw before him at the moment: five glowing souls, eight times rejoined, _without_ a Calamity on the Source. There was no longer any doubt; there _was_ , however, concern.

Yuki wrinkled her nose a bit at the explanation, "Is that something _he_ told you two?" She now also sounded more suspicious of the Ascian across from her.

The Paragon straightened his posture, then turned to face everyone else; he felt the attention in the room turn on him. Sumire once more looked over to Shoto and Emet-Selch, then made a face as he immediately rubbed at his eye again. Yuki finally turned to face him this time. 

"Are you _quite_ alright, Sumire? You've been doing that since last night." Her question drew everyone's attention; everyone but Emet-Selch and Ice. The Warrior and the Ascian seemed to be staring at each other for the moment.

"I-It's fine, Yuki," Sumire moved his hand, then frowned at her, "My eye just needs time to adjust to the First's aether... It's just... acting up a little."

"Can you still see okay?" Yuki reached up to move his hair a bit so she could see his white eye. Shoto and Angel watched as Yuki aggressively doted on the Dragoon. 

"I can still see fine, I promise." Sumire reached up to gently push her hand away, "It'll settle by tonight, like always. It's just that everything seems oddly... brighter than usual."

"What are you doing to them?" Ice's deep, growled voice asked Emet-Selch. The Ascian cocked an eyebrow as he continued to look at the Warrior, rolling his eyes

"Not that you seem inclined to believe anything I say," he drawled, "but I meant what I said, and I said what I meant, my axe-wielding friend. I haven't done a thing to you or any of your friends outside of the lovely little skirmish--"

"You're the _only_ thing different since yesterday." Ice replied as he stepped forward; his hand pulled free of his husband's grasp.

"You chopped down the door of the room I was sleeping in and attacked me. Like a primitive. I merely defended myself," the Ascian countered.

"You were-"

" ** _Enough,_** " the Exarch snapped sharply as his ears pinned back.

The Warrior and the Ascian both looked away from each other; Ice growled loudly in frustration, while Emet-Selch huffed almost primly. Angel stood up carefully and released Yuki's carbuncle. He then hugged his husband to try and calm him down.

The Allagan Miqo'te rubbed his forehead, then looked back to the Scholar. "Pray continue, Shoto..."

The female Seeker nodded, "Where was...? O-Oh right... Knowing... all of _that_ , it's," Shoto paused for a moment, "it's _likely_ that one added shard could have awakened some long-forgotten abilities in our souls," she gestured to herself, then Angel, "which explains the strange things we kept noticing around us." 

The Crystal Exarch brought a hand to his chin in thought, "In any other circumstance, I might be disinclined to believe you," he lowered his crystal hand, then looked at it for a moment. "But I find that I don't question anything you've said thus far. Perhaps it's a result of everything we've been trying to accomplish since..." He stopped, not wanting to say much more in front of the Ascian that he still wasn't sure what to do about. Aside from the fight he stopped this morning, he hadn't made any further efforts to cause trouble nor run off. Emet-Selch found himself being stared at by the Exarch, and just cocked an eyebrow in response.

Angel flicked his ears, then looked back to his friends after the silence. "I-I'm starting to worry... that i-it's just... m-me and... Shoto," he frowned, then looked to Sumire, then Yuki, then finally up to his husband that he still held onto, "Has... a-anyone else... noticed... _a-anything_?"

Ice looked over to Angel, then relaxed slightly as he hugged him back. "Sorry, love," he shook his head a little, "but aside from last night, nothing else has seemed odd. Just sort of feeling generally stronger, as I've answered you before." He looked back to Sumire and Yuki, wondering about their responses.

Yuki shook her head, "Nothing has been weird. Just noticing Shoto's moping about, mostly."

"H-Hey!" Shoto pouted, "I don't... mope." The Scholar argued the term, but it wasn't entirely inaccurate. She'd had days when the guilt and sadness just hit her like a load of bricks... she could see how that might have come across as moping to someone else. Yuki just made a face at her. It was sort of hard to read, but it felt worried to Shoto.

"Sumire...?" Ice asked, as he gently hugged Angel again, reassuringly. The Dragoon looked over to him in silence for a moment, then shook his head a little.

"I've felt... tired." He shrugged a bit, "Maybe a bit more than I used to, but it's probably nothing. I've tried to train harder, I'm probably just overdoing it."

"You overslept yesterday and were exhausted by the time we were finished speaking with the Exarch," Yuki frowned. Sumire took a breath, then sighed.

"Some days are just like that... If it's true that we all gained another fragment of our souls... maybe I just need time to adjust to it...?" He made a face, then looked over to Shoto and Emet-Selch again. With a wince, he reached up to completely cover his right eye with his hand. He mumbled to himself, but Yuki still heard him, " _Maybe I'll just cover it until it adjusts..._ "

Angel wasn't sure what to say. Their friends would have surely mentioned odd manifestations if they'd have seen them. Much like the orange carbuncle-like creature; Ambrosia; that had appeared during the fight. It sounded like Ice, Yuki, and Sumire just felt a bit stronger, if anything, but nothing else notable had happened. He buried his face in Ice's chest with a quiet sound of frustration.

Shoto also seemed concerned about the updates, and bit her lip. "W-Well," she started, "I had... similar thoughts. I've felt stronger... s-so maybe... my _magic_ is too, and," she trailed off as she blushed. Angel turned his head to look at her. Ice just frowned; Angel's words from this morning replayed in his mind--they had been strikingly similar to Shoto's.

("...I-I've felt stronger too... W-Well, specifically, I-I guess, my _magic_.")

Yuki's carbuncle hopped over to Shoto. The Scholar squatted down to pet her as Angel opened his mouth to speak, but Ice spoke first.

"...and you thought you'd test it out," he stated, then glanced back down to his husband. The White Mage blushed, then glanced away silently. Shoto looked surprised, but nodded as she focused on petting the carbuncle at her feet. An audible sigh drew attention to Yuki, who now had her arms crossed.

" _Really_ , Shoto, that's irresponsible even by _Ice's_ standards."

"Yeah," Ice agreed, as he looked back to Shoto, then paused, "Wait..." 

He turned to look back at Yuki to argue her wording, but the Ascian actually laughed, smirking widely, and spoke before the Warrior could. "Praise _Zodiark_ , someone else understands~!" He moved to get a little closer to Shoto, but was stopped by a sharp, cold look from the Exarch. His expression said it would be _unwise_ to move any closer than he already was; the Ascian remained where he was and just gave a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

Shoto stuttered to speak again, "I-I just thought... I'd see if... maybe... I could... mend the wound... to full?"

Angel jerked at the suggestion, he turned to look at her and spoke sharply, and in disbelief, "Sh-Shoto!?" Ice let go of Angel when he took a worried step towards his oldest friend. "That was _far_ too much damage to heal alone and all at once!"

"But I _did_ it!" She immediately argued. Eos popped up beside her in a swirl, and nodded fervently as if trying to back her up, then landed on the back of the carbuncle to sit. Angel made a concerned face, then looked to Emet-Selch; the Ascian paused, then nodded in response.

"She did," he crossed his arms with a quiet sigh, "Although, I _tried_ to warn her not to push herself like that."

Shoto looked puzzled for a moment. Had he tried to warn her? As she thought for a moment, she recalled the voice she heard telling her to stop... A look of realization crossed her face and the Ascian near her frowned a little.

"You pushed yourself to the level of Aetheric Exhaustion. If you will recall how 'fine' you claimed to be before you collapsed on me."

" _Ae...ther_..." Angel's voice was faint, and didn't even finish the first word. The condition was one both Ice and Shoto knew he'd had personal experience with. The former through an explanation from the latter; she'd been around when he had pushed himself that far.

It wasn't just his experience right now, though; the term brought back the feelings of his nightmare from this morning. He heard a distant, quiet bell at the edge of his hearing. The mage's voice returned; quiet, a bit shaky, and full of concern, "Shoto, a-are you _c-certain_ you're alright...? It... I-It normally takes... _days_ t-to recover... from that..."

It was clear that the mage spoke from experience. The Exarch blinked, then looked worriedly to the White Mage. Emet-Selch also cocked an eyebrow. Yuki wanted to point out once more that these two were too much alike, and it was clear on her face as she gave a look to Shoto. The female Miqo'te nodded her head to Angel, then raised her hands to calm things down before they could escalate again.

"Yes, yes, I'm a bit tired, but I feel fine. I promise!" She blushed, then lowered her arms, "That's... That's why I said... h-he... saved me... last night," she trailed slightly, as she felt a bit embarrassed to admit that she'd so direly misjudged. 

"...Even if... he _did_ help you," Angel's tail curled against his own leg as he took another step forward, "Are you... _really_ okay enough to be up...? I'm amazed you're even _conscious_ if..."

"I will be fine to travel," She interrupted him, giving another reassuring smile. "We're not planning on fighting, just traveling to Kholusia, right? There's a boat ride involved in that. I can rest on that." She smiled reassuringly, "I _promise_ I'll take it easy, okay?"

"And what about _him_ , Shoto?" Ice glared at Emet-Selch, "Are you suggesting we just let _him..._ tag along?" Ice was clearly not pleased. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at the Ascian. Shoto didn't have a response, but her lack of immediate denial admitted she'd been thinking that.

Emet-Selch scoffed, a slow, smug grin creeping over his features, "I can do whatever _I please_ , my dear friend," he replied, clearly pleased to continue needling Ice. "I daresay it's not _your_ call to make." Ice growled in response, but the Ascian just continued to grin.

"You would be correct. It is _not_ Ice's decision," the Exarch took a step forward, "But it is _mine_." 

The Ascian shrugged dramatically, shaking his head. "Yes, yes, _render unto His Radiance what belongs to His Radiance_ and all that. Whatever, then, can I do to convince you of my sincerity, o wise Crystal Exarch?"  
  
G'raha gave a soft sigh then put a finger to his chin, thoughtfully; he didn't reply immediately... but Shoto heard Emet-Selch speak again, soft and sibilant.

《 _If you know anything I might use as leverage with our Allagan friend here, my dear hero, I'd be much obliged...I'm quite serious about traveling with you, this time. If nothing else, someone needs to protect you..._ 》

Shoto blinked and her head whipped towards Hades, her expression confused and her cheeks slightly pinker. She'd heard him speak, but the others hadn't reacted?

《 _Well, that's because they can't hear me. They aren't connected, the way we seem to be, now are they?_ 》

"Wh--What's connected?! Connection?!" Shoto blurted out.

...Ice, Yuki, Sumire, Angel and the Exarch all looked over to the Scholar as she felt heat build in her face like a bonfire, and the Ascian rolled his eyes. Then the five looked at one another.  
  
"Shoto..." Yuki began, the Viera cocking her head to the side. "No one...mentioned a connection? Except, maybe...going to Kholusia would count? ...Are you _really_ sure you're alright?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Shoto insisted, pursing her lips and crossing her arms. Ice glared suspiciously at Hades and fought down a snarl; this drew G'raha's attention, and the Exarch loudly cleared his throat, as if to officially interrupt.  
  
"Here, then, is an opportunity to demonstrate your sincerity, in some small part, Emet-Selch," he intoned, flicking his ears as his crimson eyes fixed with Hades' golden ones. "Perhaps you'd be kind enough to explain the _strange occurrences_ that have been troubling Shoto and Angel?"  
  
Emet-Selch actually brightened, giving a wide shrug and a personable smirk. "Of course! Simplicity itself, in fact, since _as they mentioned_ , they consulted me beforehand...but I'm digressing, admittedly. Now, then." He held up a finger. "This is somewhat theoretical, but I believe that they, as a result of their eighth rejoining, have accessed _creation magic_."

"Creation magic?" Sumire asked, looking over briefly towards the Ascian, then back to Yuki, confused, "Like they always talked about everywhere in Amaurot?"

"The very same!" Hades smirked. "Admirably attentive, young dragon-slayer." He folded down his finger and then steepled his hands, looking over them at the assembled group. "Before anyone asks something terribly, mind-shatteringly stupid, like 'what do the words creation magic mean', let me go on to say that they mean exactly what they sound like. They are the act of calling aether into a solidified, true form, of creating through the sheer and precise imposition of will." He cracked his knuckles. "If I might demonstrate? I promise, I'll create nothing harmful."

The Exarch shrugged lightly, and Emet-Selch closed his eyes, drawing on the well of his aether...by the great God, it was depleted after that battle, though at least it wasn't completely exhausted...still, drawing on the arm of his Elder Form in particular, and his Mirrors of Utterance, had been an effort. There was more than enough for what he intended, though; he would focus on one of the first things young Amaurotines learned, food.

He closed his eyes, and snapped his fingers with his usual theater.  
  
Out of nothingness, out of thin air, a table seemed to write itself into being, and then a silvery tea tray. Set on it was a porcelain teapot, filled with hot, steaming tea, and a set of matching cups...arrayed around the tea set were small plates of cakes, cookies, and pastries. As a last flourish, he added a vessel of sugar and a vessel of cream...perhaps it wasn't strictly necessary, but there it was.  
  
There were gasps of shock and interest, and he waited for them to die down before gesturing to the set. "And there you have it. This very same exercise, with...some tweaking, was a simple, elementary act of creation taught to aspiring will-workers as one of the first pieces of their training in the arcane arts. In the days of Amaurot, it was hard to find someone who had _no_ aptitude for creation magic, though...typically everyone had one specialty in which they truly _excelled._ " He smiled, a little wistfully...and seemed to notice Angel staring at the cakes, though the dark-haired Miqo'te blushed and looked away, shaking his head. "Such as, for example, _your_ creation just now, the one called...'Ambrosia'."

"Wait a minute," Ice demanded. "Angel created that? That was a living creature--"  
  
"Which is quite within the purview of creation magic," Hades replied airily. "It's much more complex than the food and the tea, to which you're all welcome, as it's not _static_ , but it's quite possible." He smirked as if expecting a rejoinder...

Shoto gasped. "... _That_ 's how you were able to recreate Amaurot, in the Tempest!" she said. "That's why...Twelve Above," she breathed, imagining the sheer amount of effort it must've taken to build the great city that lay far below the waters, even as a shallow replica.  
  
Hades' look of happiness was genuine. "Ah, you _can_ catch on quite quickly! Yes, just so. It wasn't the work of a single day, but right you are."

"...Wouldn't the work of creation magic fade with the death of its creator?" The Scholar chewed her lip and looked both pensive and worried, a reaction that made the Paragon's smile fade to a melancholy look.  
  
"In time, yes; a large-scale creation like my Amaurot would take some moons to disappear, but in the end all that would be left would be...the foundation upon which I built," he said, breezing over the details.

《 _Another time, perhaps. ...Please don't respond out loud. Yes, I can hear your thoughts, and vice versa, it's really as simple as that. Don't be too alarmed, dear hero._ 》

Shoto frowned to herself--she wanted to press him on it, even mentally, but her thoughts were already a mess, and she decided to let it go for now, but remember it.

"Yet its aether shows no signs of dimming," G'raha mused, looking to the Ascian.  
  
" _That_ ," said Emet-Selch, more grimly than he quite meant, "is not my doing. My death should've ensured its slow decline, and I assure you, I did, most definitely, perish there. Its preservation is the doing of another...and yes, likely another Ascian. Elidibus could maintain its presence quite easily, if he deigned to do so himself; even one of the lesser rank wouldn't find it too hard. At any rate, that version of Amaurot is no longer mine to command." He shrugged widely, languidly. "I am, believe it or not, in a position rather similar to all of you."

"If you died once, then you can die again," Ice growled. "Right?"  
  
"Yes. Indeed," said the Paragon, raising his hands as if to say 'I yield' even as he rolled his eyes. "Very well spotted. But, truth be told, I really would prefer not to engage in another long, drawn-out, destructive conflict, heroes. Instead, might I not _help_ you...? These powers of creation, your newly recovered legacy, might become quite dangerous to all of you without guidance...and I must stress, you still are broken, sundered souls. Though to be rejoined eight times is unprecedented, it's nothing like being completed. So, I offer you the tutelage of one of Amaurot's greatest sorcerers, for no cost at all."  
  
Shoto raised her brow, though she seemed quite interested. "...You'd train us in the arts of creation? All of us?"

"All of you," Emet-Selch affirmed, spreading his arms. 

Angel's ears pricked to attention, his gaze focused on the Ascian, and Shoto looked thoughtful; G'raha fought down a grimace. Sumire frowned, then looked over to Angel and Ice rather than at Emet-Selch and Shoto. Yuki wore a very flat look on her face, as did Ice.

"What a godsdamned farce." Ice clenched his fists. "You tried this before, _Ascian_ . You offered us help, you pulled Y'shtola from the Lifestream in a grand _gesture of '_ **_good faith'_ ** . And then, when it pleased you, you turned the tables on us without a shred of remorse and tried to slaughter us all! How do you expect us to suddenly _trust_ you?!"

Shoto looked like she wanted to reply, but the Warrior had a point...the last time the Ascian had offered his friendship, he'd just as quickly rescinded it and deemed himself their executioner. Yes, he'd had his reasons, but...

The silence hung heavy in the room, but it was broken by Angel's hesitant voice, as the White Mage crept forwards to take a look over the tea set.  
  
"Y-You don't..."

"Eh?" Ice turned to his husband.

Angel moved over to the table; took one of the small cakes from the tray, and looked at it. His voice low, and his face still seemed hesitant on the topic. "H-He's kept his w-word... and... he t-trusted _us_... last night. So... it's only f-fair... to rrreturn the f-favor."

The Miqo'te bit the cake before anyone could ask what he was doing or what he meant. He'd stuttered through, desperately forcing back his purr. He was quite nervous about eating anything, but Emet-Selch had eaten the food he had brought, and drank the tea he had made last night. He felt it was only right to accept something from him in return...

Besides all that, he was quite weak around sweets...

The Ascian's expression was one of surprise when the dark-haired, male Miqo'te picked up one of the cakes and ate it. A small genuine smile formed on his face.

Ice, however, was shocked that Angel ate the cake. " **_Angel?!_ ** What are you-" He cut himself off, as he thought about what his husband had said. Emet-Selch had been truthful in their encounters before, just circumstances had put them at odds. He pinned his ears back and he gave a frustrated growl. Angel did not eat any more nor take any of the tea... the cake had only been eaten to make a point.

Shoto actually breathed a sigh of relief, and then drew herself up to try and seem more authoritative towards the Ascian; it wasn't quite successful, and mostly drew a flicker of amusement that she felt through their mental connection, but she pressed on. "...You told me that you still seek the restoration of the original world, the Rejoining, but you believe it can be accomplished without unnecessary deaths, without the mass murder your kind has used before. Did you mean that?"

Hades nodded and spread his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Yes, of course I meant it."  
  
"...Swear that you did," Shoto said firmly, crossing her arms. "Swear an oath, on the memory of Amaurot, that _that_ 's your goal. If you'll do that, I don't care about any other hidden agendas, or ulterior motives, or secret reasons. Because I know if you break that word, it'll mean something."

For a long, long moment, Hades just _stared_ at her. 

She couldn't quite tell what all the emotions were, even through the link they shared, the strange tether of fate and heart and mind; there was fear, and shock, and some degree of anger, but also pride, and relief, and joy...  
  
Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke.  
  
"I swear by the memory of Amaurot," he said, gravely and solemnly, "and by the souls of the Convocation of Fourteen, that a Rejoining without death or calamity is my goal. If it is at all possible, I will seek it. Is that sufficient?"  
  
His aggrieved air didn't touch his eyes...Shoto felt he was almost smiling, behind a dour mask.  
  
"...Yes," she answered. "...And you're going to tutor us in creation magic, still, all of us, like you said before," she added hastily.

"Indeed, indeed, yes, yes, yes," said Emet-Selch, all dismissiveness and rolled eyes once more, though he didn't sound insincere. "I promise, too, I will teach you, each in turn, all I can. It will be quite limited, given your souls' continued broken state, but. It will be something no one else can do." 

Shoto couldn't help but beam at this--here was an opportunity to learn something no one else could, a lost magic from millennia ago! "Wonderful!"

* * *  
Another, drawn out awkward silence fell after that settled... and just as it stretched a moment too long, the Crystal Exarch sighed heavily.

"Very well. I suppose such an oath satisfies me, too...as much as I _can_ be satisfied, Emet-Selch. I want you to know, I mislike _all_ of this. I'm not quite of a mind with Ice, but I'm not that far from his position, either." G'raha crossed his arms and shook his head. "But I'm not foolish enough to mindlessly challenge Shoto when her mind's made up...and Angel had a persuasive argument. So, then, here is what we'll do."

He pointed decisively towards the Ascian. "You are to remain with Shoto, Yuki, and Sumire, and travel with them to Eulmore, where you'll rendezvous with Alphinaud and Y'shtola. I believe in a larger group, you're less likely to be tempted by even small transgressions of your oath...and, being very frank, I don't want you near Ice and Angel, at the moment." His brows furrowed. "If I learn you've done _anything_ to interfere with their work..."

"Yes, yes, I'm full aware. I want no part of the full wrath of the Crystarium and her master," the Angel of Truth assured. 

G'raha ground his teeth a little; he hadn't been exaggerating. Everything about this idea seemed wrong. He didn't _want_ to agree to _any_ of this--he would prefer to throw the Ascian in an oubliette and call it a day; but it was what it was.

"Ice, Angel, you'll continue to Amh Araeng as per the assignment we previously discussed," he continued. He didn't share what theirs was, and once he'd made his decisions, he looked to his friends. "Please use the devices I gave you if an emergency should arise... they should have no trouble with range."

"Understood," Yuki replied, then turned to Shoto. "You're _certain_ this is what you want?"

"Yes," Shoto nodded. She stood firm. "He gave his word, and I want to hold him to it.

Yuki nodded with a frown, "Alright. Well. We'd best go gather our bags and head out to our respective travel points. Y'shtola's new findings in the Tempest certainly interest me." 

"Ice, Angel," the Exarch turned to them, "head to the Amaro launch when you've collected your things. Cassard has a caravan to take to Mord Souq today and has the space to take you along." He turned to look at Shoto, "Your group can head out to Tessellation and find Dadfort in Knot. He's promised a boat to Kholusia," his red ears flicked out to the sides. "Unfortunately, we're still working on repairing relations between the Crystarium and Eulmore... so, I cannot promise you he'll take you the whole way to the city." He looked apologetic, but Shoto shook her head and smiled at him.

"I-I'm just glad to have a transport arranged! Thank you so much!" She then looked to her traveling companions, "I know... I will slow our process some, from being irresponsible, but... you're all right. I _should_ take my time to recover, a-and Emet-Selch said I'd be fine in a few days!" Shoto smiled, as she tried to be encouraging to her friends. "Besides, while there's a boat crossing, using Amaro in between should make the process a little faster."

"Hn," Emet-Selch put in. "How much do you trust these oversized goat-birds? Do you not have even one airship?"  
  
"The Amaro will be fine," Shoto sighed, giving him a long look. "This is a diplomatic mission, and diplomats don't demand airship flights."  
  
"You and I have met _very_ different diplomats," Hades quipped in reply.  
  
"That's probably true," she said simply. "Now, come along. If we're getting ready, you're getting ready, too." Shoto brooked no argument...she merely linked her arm with his and pulled the Ascian along as the group began to leave the Ocular; Ice shot one last angry glare at the Paragon, but said nothing.  
  
As they left, Emet-Selch considered things. Things that were likely to give him a headache, and sooner rather than later. First, what had that blind sorceress found out in the Tempest? He couldn't think of what she could have learned that was new, he'd practically given them a guided tour of the recreated city...Unless...  
  
Secondly and more immediately, he hadn't set foot in Eulmore since the project with Vauthry had borne fruit. He grimaced a little at the thought. Vauthry. Now there was a work he wasn't particularly fond of or proud of. And one that people might remember, especially that Elezen boy who'd caused such a ruckus.

This was definitely going to be a pain, wasn't it?  
  
And yet, looking to his side, seeing the genuine sparkle in Shoto's eye, made something in his long-cold heart spark back to life. Something he hadn't thought along the lines of for far, far too long.

_It'll be a torturous road, no mistaking it._

_But...I think she's worth it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PERFECT TEATIME!!!
> 
> Next time: DIPLOMATIC INCIDENTS!!!!
> 
> Our Warriors can finally head out on their assignments... with a +1 who decided to ask this time! Stay tuned for the next chapter, on Sunday, November 29th.
> 
> Ahhhh!! We revamped the fight scene so very much, so many times. It caused such delays, then Finals Week hit Xehnis on top of added work hours. D: Then Elidibus got sick and was on leave from work. We're so very sorry it's been a while since the main story has gotten a new chapter! orz
> 
> Xehnis posted the first part of her side story; involving Shoto's past; two weeks ago, if you might be interested in reading that. :3  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376657/chapters/66901159
> 
> We also post our chapters on Tumblr: https://shardweavers.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can read these chapters with screenshots/artwork, see the character bios, read any side stories, and see the Chapter List, or perhaps see any updates we can't post here. Once again, thanks for reading our work!


	12. Old, Unhappy, Far Off Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna and the Exarch in the Ocular, Yuki and Sumire on the Launch.  
> Cats and rabbits in the garden, baby, and ooh, the past, it haunts.

[ _ Half a bell prior to the death of Shoto’s door... _ ]

Closing the book that sat before him, the Crystal Exarch glanced to the small chronometer on his desk and sighed, rubbing his temples; page after page of Allagan tomes researched, all of Beq Lugg’s notes and annotations and fae wisdom, and yet he felt no closer to an answer on how to imbue the vessels--no closer to guaranteeing the Scions a safe return to the Source before the First consumed their souls.    
  
“Another sleepless night, and so little to show for it,” he grumbled. Standing and stretching, he glared at his chair, silently rebuking it for the aches in his back; picking up his staff, he took the book he’d just finished researching and replaced it on the bookshelf, looking around the Umbilicus afterwards.

Surely,  _ somewhere _ in this grand tower, the answer he sought was waiting to be found...he could feel it. He just had to persist, didn’t he...?

When his gaze fell on his desk once more, he realized the journal he'd been writing in for the last few weeks was still open; the Exarch placed his staff on his back, and gently plucked the journal up, intending to put it away. The last bit of his entry from last night caught his eye before he could:

_ Seeing the encouraging look on Angel's face was...nostalgic. It reminded me of when we were trying to find clues to open the Tower in the first place. He was so fascinated by my retellings of Allagan history, back then in a way only Lyna has since echoed.  _

_ Maybe that's why I'm so certain the answer will come to me if I just keep searching...? I have so many people around me who bring about miracles. _

"...Miracles," the Allagan Miqo'te trailed off, then frowned, sighing again. "Mayhap... that was the wrong word to write." 

He shook his head to clear it, then closed his journal and placed it under a larger book...now wasn’t the time for melancholy. His friends, the brave Warriors of Light and Darkness, were heading out into Norvrandt today. Once he had seen them safely off, and run his own minor errands, he could return to struggling with the vessels.

Flicking his ears, the Exarch allowed himself a small smile and took in a deep breath as he headed out of the Umbilicus. Yet no sooner had he entered the Ocular...

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Biting his lip and frowning hard, the Exarch yanked his staff from his back as he hurried to the mirror at the center of the Ocular. He paused for a moment, then tapped his staff on the floor. The soft clang echoed through the empty room as the mirror lit up with a glow.

A view of the Crystarium appeared as its citizens bustled about, starting their days. The Mean's artisans were setting up their workshops, the Musica's vendors were preparing their shops, the guards were preparing for a shift change... nothing seemed out of place yet. 

The red-haired Miqo'te put a finger to his chin, thoughtfully. "Am I just imagining things...?" 

A sudden burst of movement flickered from the mirror, and all at once, he sensed the aetheric signature of powerful magic used somewhere in the Crystarium. The Exarch’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive; he sent out a silent magical alert. Every guard in view leapt to attention; Lyna came hurrying in to give orders. 

The Allagan Miqo’te grit his teeth, then raised his staff toward the mirror.

"What was...?" he let his question trail off, nothing else had been disturbed... He checked in on the Catenaries, but the people there seemed safe, and looked to be just getting up and ready for their days.    
  
...Another violent pulse of magic, more powerful than any he knew--the Pendants. There was no mistake; this time he was sure. "My friends," he whispered, worriedly; he shifted the mirror’s image in a hurry. 

The moment he looked in on the Pendants, he was greeted by citizens clamoring near the Master of Suites, and guards trying to calm them down. His ears pinned back, then he shook his head and took a deep, calming breath. He needed to sort out what was happening before he ran off. 

The Exarch lifted his staff again, then looked in on each of his friends' rooms. Sumire's room was a bit disheveled; his bed was a mess, and his door was still open, but it didn't look damaged. Yuki's room was quite tidy, though her coat was still on her bed, by an unpacked bag. Ice and Angel's room bothered him the most; food was half-prepared, a knife was on the floor, a chair knocked over, and the door still wide open. When he went to try to look in on Shoto, he found aetheric interference made it difficult. He knew he'd found the source of the disturbance... but why--?

For a brief moment, the image cleared. He saw his friends on defense, and a familiar figure, all too familiar. A figure that made his ruby eyes narrow, and his blood run cold. The Crystal Exarch had his answer.

“... _ Emet-Selch _ ...!”

He loudly clanged his staff on the Ocular's floor to disperse the mirror's image as he ran out to head to the Pendants...

* * *

[ _ Half a bell after the Ascian Tea Party. _ ]

"My lord?" Lyna's voice broke through the Exarch’s thoughts as he stared at the blank mirror, pushing away the memories of earlier that day. His ears perked at the Viis’ quiet voice, and he closed his eyes as he let out a silent breath.

"Yes, Lyna?" His voice was quiet and contemplative; he still felt himself shaking inside, but tried to make sure it didn't bleed through. He had to maintain some level of authority and decorum.

"Are you certain this is wise?"

"No," he replied without thinking; his ears flicked and he sighed again, shaking his head. "But I'm not certain what other course of action I could have taken, to be truthful." Turning from the mirror, he headed down the steps in the center of the room, his captain following him.

"We could have kept him locked up," she offered.

He immediately shook his head, "No. He’s too powerful, magically, to be held that way--if he'd have wanted to, he'd have simply disappeared from his cell, or torn free from his bonds. I'm not really certain why he didn't at least try."

"Then... do you trust him to keep his word?" Lyna was confused, and it showed in her expression. The Exarch had entrusted her with many details, yet she knew he still hid much from her; this felt like another of those times where she wouldn't get a straight answer.

"I don't trust him as far as I could throw him," the Exarch grumbled, glaring at the floor--and, to a degree, at himself. After a silent moment, he looked back to Lyna. “... I do, however, trust our Warriors of Darkness. After all, if not for them, I--" he stopped, then shook his head a little as he corrected himself, smiling ruefully, "rather,  _ none _ of us would be here."

"...If I may speak freely, my lord...?"

"Of course," the Exarch tilted his head a little. Lyna made a face, then took a breath.

"Was he not the one to place you and the Warriors in mortal peril before...?" She took a step forward, "I worry for you all should he decide to try once more. He is one of the 'Ascians' you told me of, correct...?" The Exarch's ears perked at her question... he'd forgotten that he'd explained that.

"Yes... I understand, Lyna. But...in this matter, we must trust them." He smiled at her, doing his best to reassure her; as much as himself. "I am certain that, if they must act, they will make the right decisions."

Lyna looked to the Exarch for a moment, then smiled a little. She saluted and nodded, "I will head out to make sure transportation is available when they are ready to head out." She turned, then hurried off.

The Crystal Exarch stood in the middle of the Ocular, alone. For a brief moment, he felt the emptiness of the tower itself, and let his eyelids fall shut.

"Ah... I have work to do as well, don't I, my friends...?" He opened his ruby eyes, feeling as tired as he ever had, "For the Scions, and the Source..."

In the aftermath of that morning, Yuki found herself quite overwhelmed with everything that had transpired; thinking about it at all gave her a headache.

First they’d fought a desperate battle against Hades, seemingly returned from the dead. Then there was how the battle had ended, and afterwards, all of this talk about creation magic and the lost powers of Amaurot...!   
  
The Viera glared at her palm, almost daring something to conjure into existence suddenly; her expression fairly said “go ahead, aether, make my day.”   
  
...Of course, nothing happened.

_ What a nonsensical notion _ , she thought to herself. 

And yet...and yet the most sensible woman she’d ever known was buying into it completely, to the point that the  _ Ascian _ was  _ coming along with them _ to Eulmore! To Eulmore, the very place he’d helped twist into...!

It was all a mess. The Viera groaned, flopping back onto her bed. Her emerald carbuncle hopped up lightly to join her, snuggling close to her; Yuki brought her thin fingers down on its head, gently petting the creature...it helped her clear her thoughts, and grudgingly accept that there was no changing things, not at this point. 

She’d better get moving; Shoto would be expecting her and her compatriot. So first, obviously, came gathering Sumire from his room.

Standing up, Yuki hoisted her dark blue travel bag, slinging it over one shoulder and moving towards the door. She glanced back at the room one more time to make sure she didn't leave anything; a sheen from the nightstand caught her attention, her carbuncle bouncing happily over to it, scrabbling at the nightstand with her little paws. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, and her hands automatically went to find that, sure enough, she’d forgotten her necklace! 

_ This morning must really be getting to me _ , she thought ruefully to herself, fastening the black cord about her neck and adjusting the single crystal...touching it brought back memories of a younger Miqo’te, his purple hair bouncing as he bounded through the Limsan crowds to present it to her like a trophy, grinning from ear to ear; his little token of thanks to his best friend.

Yuki allowed herself a soft laugh.  _ It all seems so long ago, now...Heh. _

With her necklace secure, she patted the carbuncle’s head again and headed for the door, the magical beast following with a coo. 

"Thank you, Carby. Now, let’s see if we can go get Sumi moving." 

Late, late, late; always late despite all their best efforts. And on today, of all days! An important day like this! They sprinted through the streets of Amaurot, hoping very faintly that the others weren’t gone, but knowing that--

"Theia! Over here!" A familiar voice called.

"You haven't left yet...?"

_ Why were they still here...? _

"Because we're supposed to leave together, silly. Don't you want to go with us?" The familiar voice responded with a snicker.

"But I'm so very late..."

"You often are," another voice replied, reassuringly, "So why would we leave before you arrived?"

"You're part of our constellation," a warm, calming voice spoke from behind. "Worry not, we would never leave you behind, Theia."

"Persephone..."

Sumire had fallen asleep again after coming back from the Ocular; despite his getting dressed after the fight, he hadn't made up his bed before he'd left. The blankets had been kicked off the bed at some point during the night, and he hadn't picked them up. He was using his pillow more like a stuffed animal than a proper pillow, and he was curled up tightly near the bottom of his bed... despite having laid down across the middle.

" _ Per...se...pho...? _ "

He blinked awake, just as the sun peeked out from behind some clouds to light up his room. Tears stung his eyes, and the Dragoon reached up to wipe them away in confusion.

"What was I...?" 

Sumire pushed himself up, then rubbed at his eyes again. He tried to recall even the end of his dream, but it wouldn't come back, and all he could feel was the lingering sadness deep within his heart that he had no context for. 

"Just a dream," he told himself, then frowned, "Like always, it's just a dream." 

Taking a deep breath, he looked around his room, fighting down another yawn. "How long have I been..." 

Shaking his head, he flicked his ears as he stood up, letting his thoughts trail away into nothingness. A yawn overtook him, and he almost involuntarily stretched his whole body; even his tail, shivering afterwards...he still felt out of it. Drowsy wasn’t quite the word, but it was close, perhaps? Sighing, he pulled his shirt off and headed to the bathroom to wash his face--maybe the water would help him wake up more.

The young Dragoon cupped the warm water from the faucet, letting it heat up for a moment before splashing himself in the face a few times, grabbing a towel afterwards to dry off. Leaning on the sink, he stared into the mirror with a pensive frown.

_ That dream...it didn’t feel quite right. I’m used to strange dreams, ever since back then, with the dragon...But...That was stranger than any I remember... _

_...And it felt like... _ _  
_ _  
_ Reaching up to push his hair back, he examined his right eye in the mirror, the pupil and iris moonstone-white; dead to the normal sense of sight, it could now only sense the otherworldly radiance of aether. It had ached so badly in the Ocular, especially every time he looked over at the newly resurrected Ascian, but now it felt fine, and it looked no different than ever. He flicked his ears.

“Honestly, what...what was all that drivel about  _ creation magic _ ...?" Letting his hair drop back over his sight-blind eye, he let out a long, haggard sigh. “Couldn’t it...Couldn’t just...be...their normal magic, acting up...? Or being weird, or just...” He made a face and glanced over to the towel once more...

“But then, I’d have to worry about Yuki, wouldn’t I...?”

No, no, that couldn’t be it. Yuki would be fine. She had to be. She was the stronger one.

Sighing with the weight of his fatigue, he went back to the process of washing his face. He cupped more water, then ran it and his fingers through his shaggy, violet hair to push it all out of his face. He kept splashing his face and running water over his head until he no longer felt like he'd go back to sleep if he stopped.

Yuki would be fine. She  _ had _ to be.  _ She was the stronger one. _

__ * * *

Sumire hadn’t expected the person he was thinking of to greet him as he stepped from the bathroom, but--   
  
“You’re late.”   
\--there was her familiar voice, greeting the shirtless Miqo’te as he was drying off and nearly making him drop the towel he was using to do so. He managed to instead put said towel over his head as he blinked, his eyes wide with sudden surprise at the presence of the Viera before him.

“Y-Yuki!?” His ears flickering nearly sent the towel to the floor a second time, so he put it around his shoulders. “Wh-What are you d--?"

“I came to make sure you were okay,” she said in a mildly reproachful tone, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes just so. “It’s already been half a bell. You were asleep again, weren’t you?”   
  
He didn’t answer, but the color in his cheeks and the way he quickly went back to drying his hair, as well as the unkempt status of his bed and the way he guiltily glanced over to it, gave her all the answer she needed. Yuki let out a long sigh, frowning more than a little at his lack of denial.

“Is it that late? I...I didn’t think I’d been out that long, honest. I didn’t mean to make you worry...I’m sorry.” His ears pinned back and she shook her head, smiling just a little, though she still looked worried.

“I'm just concerned about how...worn out you’ve seemed to be. Are you  _ sure _ you're feeling okay? You don't have to push yourself."

Well, that was enough to make Sumire very, very interested in the ground, scuffing his foot against the ground. “I...I’m not pushing myself.”

“... _ Sumire _ .” Yuki was not having it.

“I’m not pushing myself that much!” Sumire protested. “Look, it...It’s probably a side effect of the whole...rejoining of souls, that we were just hearing about. It makes sense, you know? Given that back when we were in the Tempest...” The Seeker gripped the ends of his towel around his neck, "I saw Renda-Rae in the Light, and she lent me her strength to help Shoto. Just like you saw Nyelbert, right?”   
  
“...That’s true,” Yuki admitted, chewing her lip. Each of them had spoken, in that brief moment, to one of Norvrandt’s former Warriors of Light.   
  
“So no matter what, we know they’re part of us now, at least,” Sumire said, nodding, his tail flicking and curling lightly in thought. “And my body’s probably just...adjusting to that.”   
  
“Even with that logic, no one else is--” Yuki started in, huffing, but paused as she realized that wasn’t quite true. “...Alright, so Angel did sort of summon a glowing...orange...not-carbuncle in front of everyone...And Shoto mentioned strange things happening too.” Her long ears twitched slightly as she considered this. “...But still--”

Her voice died as she saw the disappointed look on Sumire’s face.    
  
"So you've really not noticed... _ anything _ since then?"

Part of him sounded like he didn’t quite believe her; the other part just sounded kind of saddened, and the combination was enough to make Yuki turn towards the window with a sigh, staring out of it for a long, silent beat...   
  
“I...No. I haven’t. Everything is  _ fine _ ,” she replied, insistent, accenting the  _ fine _ . “It’s  _ you _ we need to worry about. Mostly, anyway.”

“Alright,” Sumire replied; he wasn’t sure he wanted to push further on that topic right now, and besides, he kind of needed to put a shirt back on, he was getting a little cold. He reached for the one he had been wearing, but it turned out that a certain Emerald Carbuncle had curled up on it quite comfortably, and Carby made a plaintive warble when he so much as reached for it. Acquiescing, he hung the towel over the back of the chair and dug a new shirt from the dresser; he caught Yuki watching him out of the corner of his eye, though she made a frustrated noise and looked away when she caught his gaze.

It should’ve made him chuckle, or at least smile; even if it was overbearing, he didn’t mind that Yuki was concerned for him at all, it had always been her way. But when he picked up the shirt, his hands shook, and he stopped.

A wave of alien sadness, sadness from nowhere he could identify, welled up in his chest; tears pricked his eyes, several falling onto the fabric. He shook his head and hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away, but Yuki had noticed and practically bounded over to him, even more concerned.   
  
“You’re  _ not _ okay,” she whispered, “I knew it.”   
  
He felt his face flush in embarrassment, but he couldn’t lie to her. Sighing, he shifted to sit on the dresser; he slipped the shirt over his shoulders, but didn’t button it up at all yet.   
  
“You were crying, Sumire, please...at least tell me why,” Yuki pressed, and his tail flicked, his ears drooping.

“I don’t...I don’t remember.”

"Remember what?"

"I don't remember why I'm sad. I-I woke up like this." He took a long breath, shaking his head, and kept going before Yuki could ask another question or interject. "The only really different thing, other than just being tired, is...is this, and the dreams.”   
  
“I thought you told me your dreams are usually just...echoes, from the dragon’s blood?” Yuki’s frown intensified.

Sumire nodded. “Usually, they are! But these are...different. They’re strange, they don’t  _ feel _ like the ones I get from the dragon’s blood, and I can remember those. These, I can’t. I can’t even recall the faces I saw, or imagined I saw.” He reached up to touch his chest. “All that I’m left with is whatever emotions the dream stirred up, like...this stupid sadness, sadness I have no context for.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed, but not in a glare; more like she was mentally comparing something. “You can’t recall  _ anything,  _ at all?”   
  
Sumire blinked and cocked his head to the side. “...Now you sound like you know something about them. Are  _ you  _ okay, Yuki?” He couldn’t help but give a bit of a wry smirk at the opportunity to tease her, even lightly; and he was rewarded with the Viera’s cheeks coloring as she huffed, pouted, and pointed a finger at his forehead.

“No no no! We’re talking about  _ you _ ! I told you,  _ I’m fine _ , nothing is different, everything is okay! But  _ you _ are having weird dreams that you can’t remember, which make you cry; Angel is having nightmares and orange imagination beasts; a-and Shoto’s crying  _ her _ eyes out, over  _ eggs _ .”

Sumire blinked. "I don't think it was eg--"

“ _ Eggs _ , Sumi!” Yuki had turned sharply to the side, put her hands on her hips, and stomped her foot. The violet-haired Miqo’te blinked again, his mouth a perfect “o”, but he let it go--he knew when Yuki didn’t want to talk about something, and Yuki  _ did not _ want to address the Ascian-shaped elephant in the room, least of all Shoto’s feelings of guilt involving the Paragon.

Yuki crossed her arms, taking a few deep breaths and calming down, lowering her voice a little. "You should all go talk to Chessamile. Maybe she's got a tonic that'll cheer you up." Her expression now looked downcast, and Sumire couldn’t help but hop down from his seat on the dresser, shaking his head.   
  
“Yuki...I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better already, just talking like this, I don’t need a Cheering-Up Potion.” He offered her a smile.

She did not believe him. “That dream had you  _ crying _ over the sight of your, of your  _ own shirt _ ,” she said, biting her lip, her ears twitching slightly again. “You’re going to be okay in Kholusia, in Eulmore? We’re going to be there a while, and...”   
  
“Of course I’ll be okay,” he replied immediately, not even having to think about it. “I have you with me.”

There was a long, long moment of silence, in which Yuki blinked, and her cheeks went a brilliant cherry-blossom color, her mouth hanging open. Her expression turned rapidly to a protesting pout, her hands finding her hips as she stared right into his eyes and Sumire began to feel rapidly like he’d made a terrible mistake.

“Wh-wh-what’s  **_that_ ** supposed to mean, Sumi?!??”

Sumire held up his hands, blinking. “Nothing strange...? It’s just...We’ve gone everywhere together since we met, haven’t we?” He tilted his head. “You’ve saved me numerous times when I got in over my head. You've been the reason I could make it through so much that I probably shouldn't have."

"Sumire," she mumbled, paling. Her pout was giving way to a crestfallen look, an ashen, fearful expression, the more he spoke, but Sumire hadn’t noticed as he kept speaking--   
  
“You’re my partner, aren’t you?”   
  
...There was another long moment of silence as Yuki’s expression changed again, her cheeks going brilliant red once more.   
  
“...Y-yes! That! Of course! Of course I am, and we’re...Right!”    
  
Now, despite her affirmative words, the Viera looked clearly angry; she looked like she might kick over the table, and her ears twitched much differently than her earlier agitation,  _ extremely _ irritated. Once more, Sumire worried he’d made a huge mistake.

“Yuki?”   
  
"Yes. Yes, we're partners! Y-you're absolutely right, and there's no way that could be misconstrued or anything! It's, it's all fine! Everything is great!" She stamped her foot again, and the table shook from the force.   
  
The Miqo’te’s own face was now full of concern. “Yuki, are you...Sorry, I worded that wrong, I should have--”

"N-NO! You're fine! I'm just, I need, to go get some air!  **_Aaaugh!_ ** " 

Yuki turned on her heel, then stormed off; Carby leapt up from Sumire's shirt, then bounded after her. She only took a few steps before she stopped; the carbuncle leapt up into a twirl, then disappeared into aetherial mist... and Sumire was left there, staring at where the carbuncle had disappeared and stunned by what had just taken place. 

Part of him wanted to immediately run after her, try to get her to understand what he'd meant. But that would be foolish, he knew; she needed some time to herself, especially if she had also dismissed Carby. Sumire shook his head, gazing at the floor with a soft, small sigh.

And then he noticed it; a bright glimmer, a shining thing. When he knelt down, he realized...it was a violet-colored...crystal, it looked like? It hadn’t been there before.

"That's odd, did she drop this?" He reached out to pick up the crystal so he could return it to her, but pulled his hand back instantly at the touch; it felt like it had burned him, but not with heat. 

"What the--... it.. it's cold...?" 

He looked down to his hand, then the crystal, "...Violet... ice?" 

Sumire didn't want to touch it again, as cold as it was, but he was curious.. upon closer inspection, he realized the violet-colored ice was shaped like a tiger cub...

_ Stupid Sumire. _ Why did he have to go and say things like that?

Yuki’s teeth were grit tight enough to snap as she stalked across the length of the Exedra; she didn’t know if anyone greeted her, and she didn’t really care, right now. Her body was almost on autopilot, it felt like, and she was just trying to get...away.

But she couldn’t. As fast as her stride carried her, her village caught up to her in her mind’s eye; the violet-leaved trees surrounding the Crystarium melted away into the deep green forests of her youth, the bustle of the Exedra and the Dossal Gate became birdsong, and she could hear her mother’s voice, bright and melodious.

_ “Mjöll!” _

_ That isn’t my name, _ she thought.

But it had been, back then. Back when her whole world was the woman she could still see if she thought for even a moment; her light brown hair, long, tied into a single braid that fell down between her shoulders, framing her long ears. Her mother’s smile was always warm, always welcome, her arms always open to embrace her only daughter.   
  
_ “There you are, my precious Mjöll!” _

“Stop it!” she hissed to no one, quiet and fierce, trying to calm the storm of her emotions, her eyes shut tight. 

When she opened them, she realized she’d made it up the stairs to the Amaro Launch, standing out on the round platform where the amaros took off and landed...when she gazed out at the barren mountains of Lakeland, in the distance, it struck her how truly similar they were to the Skatay Mountains of her homeland...or would be, if it ever snowed on Norvrandt. 

The homeland she would likely never see again, that she’d left behind along with the name “Mjöll” and the only family she’d ever known, at the age of seventeen.

_ But I had to.  _

_ I couldn’t...I couldn’t live like that! _

She counted herself lucky that her tribe had been part of Clan Veena; if she’d been Rava-born, she’d have been sworn to the Green Word, and her friends in childhood had sworn that Ravan mothers  _ killed _ daughters who discovered the world outside. She’d have been trapped in the Golmore Jungle forever, if the Imperials hadn’t gotten her first. 

But still, what her Clan had in common with Clan Rava was this: when they came of age, and the Wood-warders came wandering in, they would take a mate. Then, the Wood-warders would be gone again, and the women would spend the rest of their lives anchored to their village.  _ Chained _ to their village, raising the children of a father they would never even know as more than a name.

She’d been revolted by the idea ever since she first understood it, ever since it was something other than a nebulous concept of roles in Vieran society. Her mother and her teachers had all promised her it would make sense as she grew, she would understand it, she would welcome it.

She hadn’t. It was  _ vile _ . To...to  _ rut _ with someone you barely knew, like an animal, once every three or five or even ten years, and then let them disappear back into the woods with barely a word. 

The soothsayers could mumble all they wanted about how “the distance 'twixt two bodies does not dictate the distance 'twixt two souls,” and how anyone who thought different was “looking for coexistence beneath a loincloth”, but it was all stupid nonsense. None of the Viera in her village who mated had ever thought of their mates outside of that cursed season, and why would they? The men were there to saddle the women with their children and go off into the wood to die, usually in agony, always alone.

The idea of that being her whole life, of being yet another village mother haggard from chasing after her children, whom she would raise to be nothing but more mothers, made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. It felt  _ wrong _ , it wasn’t what she wanted. She knew she was meant for more than that, and she was drawn to the world beyond the Skatay, beyond Dalmasca.    
  
_ “Mjöll, this is foolishness! You have a responsibility, _ ” she could hear her mother telling her.  _ “When you hold your own precious kits in your arms, you’ll understand _ ...”

_ “I don’t want that! _ ” she’d said.  _ “I don’t want to be forced to spend the rest of my life that way, I want to make a difference...” _

_ “You  _ _ will _ _ make a difference! You’ll be guaranteeing the future of our people!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Not like that...!!” _

_ “Then like  _ _ how _ _ , Mjöll?”  _ Her mother had her hands on her hips, frowning, her glare piercing.

_ “Like...like an adventurer,” _ she’d managed.

It wasn’t unheard of for Bangaa, either in small adventuring groups or whole trade caravans, to pass through the village; many of the village girls, Yuki included, would always secretly make time to go hear their stories of the outside world. For most of them, it was enough just to hear the wild tales, but what she’d heard had stirred something inside of Yuki, a yearning that had never died.    
  
And most of all, she loved their tales of other adventurers, fighting fiends and righting wrongs in far-off lands. She knew, from the first tale she heard, what she wanted to do in the future.   
  
Her mother hadn’t been amused in the least by her suggestion, her expression turning deeply angry. “ _ You mean to run off with those disgusting, greedy lizard-men? Off to be sold into slavery or get killed playing at revolutionary?! Absolutely not! I forbid it! I won’t hear any more of this nonsense, Mjöll!” _ _  
  
_

And here was the expected outcome, her mother’s words firm and absolute. Yuki desperately wanted to protest, to convince her mother otherwise...but...it was impossible. 

Her mother believed too much in the trap that was their culture. In mothers bound to create more mothers, forever. In tears, the young Viera had gone to her room and prayed to any of the Twelve that might listen for another path. For a way out. For escape.

And she had been answered by a very different Mother. By  _ Her _ _. _

**Hear. Feel. Think.**

That had been the same night she’d left the Skatay Range, and the forest that ringed it, forever. The argument with her mother had been the last time she'd talked to her. The only thing she left behind had been a single note in her room, intended for her mother, that told her of her decision and that she would be okay on her own.

Yuki curled up a bit at the memory, pulling her legs up and against her chest as she sat alone at the edge of the platform.

She had wandered for a few days after she'd left; she’d had to evade more than one Garlean patrol, and vividly remembered the terror of crouching beneath a farm shed’s ruin, breathing shallowly, as a battalion of magitek armor trampled through the smoking, burning field behind her. She was endlessly grateful to find one of her Bangaa friends on the way, and they had traveled together to Kugane.

The city had been beautiful, yes, and she’d been free.

Free and completely alone. 

It had been overwhelming, all the sights, sounds, and even smells of Kugane. Everything was so new... and she’d felt so helplessly, completely lost and afraid. All of the darker whispers she’d heard from the other girls and from the travelers on the road, along with her mother’s angry reasons for denial, had loomed like phantoms in her mind.   
  
She’d been sitting by the dock, morosely chewing on a bowl of rice she’d managed to buy with some of her last coins, when a fisherman approached her. He was a huge, barrel-chested Roegadyn; she thought now he was probably a Sea Wolf, though she knew nothing of the Roegadyn at the time save how large and rather frightening they were.   
  
_ “Why, ‘ello, lass,” _ he’d said, cautious and friendly, but she’d still jumped at his voice.  _ “Not oft I see forest folk ‘round ‘ere.” _

The young Viera hadn't known what to say; being honest, her voice had left her in her fear. Seeing how she shook, the Sea Wolf looked apologetic, and knelt down to make himself less threatening, taking one knee...she remembered most of all now how kind his weathered features had been.  _ “Wot’ll be thy name, then?” _

Yuki smiled sadly and shook her head at the remembered question, laying her forehead on her knees; a pained chuckle escaped her. The question had only frightened her more, as silly as it seemed now; she only knew she couldn’t keep her forest name after she’d thrown everything else about the forest away, it wouldn’t be right. But then, what to say? That she didn’t know her own name...? It’d been then that she’d finally started to cry...

“That was the first time I cried since I left, wasn’t it?”

The fisherman bit his lip in worried sympathy, and his warm, large hand had patted her lightly on the head. “ _ Ay up, ay up, nowt of all t’at. Ye’ve no need t’ tell me thy name if ye don’t want te. Are ye lost?” _ _  
_ _  
_ The Viera found her voice once more, though it came after a ragged sob. She shook her head to his question, unable to stop crying.  _ “I-I came here... h-hoping to be... an a-adventurer...” _

She expected him to laugh at her, or sneer, but he just looked surprised that she’d actually responded, and then his features had become thoughtful as he smiled, his finger against his chin.  _ “Hm. Reckons I ye might have a bit of t’ auld luck in Eorzea, more’n ‘ere...Well ‘en, tells ye wot, lass. I surely need an ‘elper on me way back t’ Limsa Lominsa--that’s t’ great port town of t’ West. An’ ye might well find adventurin’ there. What ye say?” _

It had been a small thing, really; a little act of kindness. But that offer, that opportunity, that had shaped everything, really. That offer had let her keep moving forwards, instead of bringing her journey to an abrupt end or taking it down a darker, more terrible path than she wanted to think about, even now. And back then, it had been a life ring tossed to a drowning girl. She’d leapt at the chance; she’d nodded so fast she felt almost dizzy, her face beaming with her first genuine smile since arriving in Kugane, a flame of hope kindled in her heart.

“ _ Y-yes! Yes, please!” _ __  
_  
_ _ “Then there’s nowt else for ‘t,”  _ he’d laughed. __ “Ahldstyrm is I, Cap’n of t’ Glorious Summer, an’ promises I that I’ll see ye safe t’ harbor.”

She wished she could’ve given the old Roegadyn a hug now, gone to him with all her troubles. She owed him so much, looking back.

_ If I’d gone anywhere else but Limsa...I’d never have met Sumire, either, would I? _

“Yuki?”

Shortly after boarding the  _ Glorious Summer _ , she and Ahldstyrm had realized the problem with her remaining nameless--he didn’t want to press her, but she’d wanted to help, earn her keep, and both captain and crew would need to get her attention somehow.

_ “Reckon we’ll need t’ call you sommat, e’en if just for t’ trip,” _ he’d pronounced, scratching his bearded chin as he looked her over. “... _ Yer hair an’ ears, lass, if’n ye don’t mind my sayin’, puts me t’ think of t’ snow, surely...There’s a Hingashi word for it, ‘yuki’. Seems it fits ye? D’ye reckon, leastways till we gets t’ Limsa?” _

_ “Yuki...” _ She tried it out, welcomed the sound.  _ “Yuki...Yes. I like that.” _

And just like the first snowfall that marked winter, it had stuck.

"Yuki...?"

Her name again... That wasn't from her memories, though.

No, that was Sumire's voice; she was sure of it. She lifted her head, then turned to look beside her...and there he was, dressed for the trip, had his travel bag over his shoulder, and had his lance resting beside him; he was solely focused on her. 

_ How long had he been here...?  _

She tried to pout at him, but couldn't manage the usual amount of energy behind it.

"I thought I told you I needed some air?" She tried to grouse, but didn't really mean it; judging by the little wry smile on the Miqo'te's face, he knew that. He shook his head in response, then looked to the mountains in the distance.

"Sorry, Yuki, but...you’ve been out here for a while," his tail curled a bit behind him. "I told Shoto you went for a walk, after the chaos this morning."

"Is she still getting ready?" Yuki shifted, letting her legs dangle over the end again, while she stretched her arms and back.

"She finished. She asked where you were when she noticed you weren't at the gate. I told her I knew where you'd be," he shifted to stand up carefully, "so I said I'd come tell you she was finished getting ready."

Yuki just watched him stand up, silently. Sumire placed his weapon on his back, then held his hand out to her. She looked at his hand, then up to his face for a moment. 

In her mind’s eye, she saw his bare chest, his bright smile, all the parts of him she couldn’t stop looking at, lately. She felt a warmth spreading slowly up her spine, a warmth that spiked when he said those terrible words--

“ _ Of course I’ll be okay, I have you with me.” _

She couldn’t feel that way about him. She wouldn’t feel that way about him. It was wrong, it was disgusting, it was a betrayal of everything she stood for, she might as well have marched back into her village in the Skatay foothills and literally chained herself to the cold earth.

“ _ We’re partners, aren’t we? _ ”

Mentally, she heard another voice, a Xaela voice; the Dotharl chieftain’s eyes sharp even if Sadu’s characteristic smirk had never left her face, her own arms crossed as she cocked her head. The day she’d drawn Yuki aside, after the Liberation of Ala Mhigo--

_ “How long will you play with that one’s heart, forest girl? He’d chase you across fifteen reincarnations, and you won’t even tell him one thing or the other...?” _

No. 

She’d been wrong. 

Sadu had been wrong then, and she’d continue to be wrong. She shook her head and stood up on her own, and Sumire blinked, but withdrew his arm without saying anything more.

"So, Shoto's gone on ahead then, I assume?" 

Yuki turned to head back up the long platform to the Launch. Sumire hurried to keep up with her pace, then chuckled again. 

"She wouldn't leave us behind. We're supposed to head out together, so she won't head off until we're all with her."

Yuki stopped at that, then blinked. She felt an odd sense of deja vu she couldn't place. She looked at Sumire as he took a few steps ahead of her, then stopped. He turned to look back when he realized she wasn't still beside him.

"Sumi, didn't I tell you that once?" She asked before he could speak. He flicked his ears, then looked thoughtful for a moment. It did feel like a familiar response, but he couldn't recall who'd said it before.

"You may have... I don't quite remember." He shook his head, then smiled at her, "Either way, it's true. Shoto's waiting for us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STUPID SUMI, IT’S NOT LIKE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING!
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed this brief interlude into Tsundere Viera Land. Next chapter, it will be ALL CAT HUSBANDS, ALL THE TIME.


	13. Rivers in the Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Ice and Angel as their part of the journey begins. Their travels take them to Mord Souq, but will it be an uneventful trip?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Have a new chapter!
> 
> Thank you for your support this past year! Stay safe this winter, and have an enjoyable holiday season. See you all in the new year with a new chapter! Remember that you can also read our story with images at http://shardweavers.tumblr.com!

Ice had taken Angel back to their room, and made them both something to eat. He felt like it might help them both calm down, and admitted he was worried that his husband might collapse if he didn't eat before they left. Angel had mostly finished his eggs and toast, but currently stared at his tea in front of him. Ice finished his breakfast and his tea, then went over to wash the dishes off.

"You full, love?" Ice asked as he turned the faucet off. Angel looked up from his tea, then looked to the plate. He nodded, then went back to staring at his tea. "Probably that cake you had... Should have been faster to stop you." Ice grumbled as he took Angel's plate and silverware to clean up.

Angel frowned, "I don't... think the cake... did much," he drank more of his tea.

"I still don't trust him," Ice stopped washing the plate for a moment, then shook his head, "...and I'm not sure how I feel about this whole 'creation magic' thing..."

"I really did summon that creature..." Angel defended, as he sat his cup down. His ears flicked as Ice made a face at the clean plate.

"It just looked like a carbuncle," Ice replied, his voice uncertain.

"She wasn't..." Angel frowned, then stood up to take his cup over to Ice.

Ice took the empty cup to wash, and sighed, "I believe you, I just..." The Warrior put the last of the dishes in the drying rack, turned off the water, then reached for the towel nearby to dry his hands. 

He breathed out, "I'm sure it was a thing a long, long time ago. We've got no reason to disbelieve that Amaurot existed. The strange ruins, the murals..." Ice shook his head, "But that whole thing in the Ocular. That little show he gave... I don’t know what that was. It looked to me like nothing more than...sleight of hand, more Ascian mischief, nothing any good." He half-growled the last words, clenching a fist unconsciously.

"...I don't think he was too focused on what he was making." Angel frowned, then turned to gather his bag for the trip; packing things he'd forgotten.

"Why do you say that...?" Ice asked, as he also moved to check that he'd remembered to pack everything.

Angel started to look in drawers and on shelves as he responded, "Do you remember what we learned in Amaurot? How a stray thought could affect a creation?" He made a face, then shook his head, "Hythlodaeus also said that 'Emet-Selch was probably distracted when it came to him,' and that made him 'the only one with the self-awareness of being just a shade'." Angel slipped his travel bag over his shoulder.

"So... You're saying something was wrong with the cake you ate?" Ice sounded confused.

Angel frowned, then tilted his head. "I wouldn't say 'wrong,' so much as... 'off'?"

"Off...?" Ice crossed his arm over his chest.

"The cake was... hollow," Angel replied, trailing off a bit.

"Hollow?" Ice tilted his head.

"I mean... it was _there_ , and had _some_ substance, but... it was... like eating air. I can only imagine he was desperate to make a point, and wasn't as focused." Angel explained; it was the best reasoning he could come up with.

"So it was as empty as his recreated city." Ice made a face as he headed towards the door. Angel just blinked at the comment, then hurried over to the door as well. Ice looked back to his husband, then gestured a little as he tried to explain. "It was there, and you could eat it, but it did nothing to fix the problem of being hungry."

《 _...It was just there to fill a void. That tray was there because it was expected to be there to make a point. I don't think he expected any of you to actually eat it, even if he did say you were welcome to it._ 》

Angel blinked at Anubis' assistance, as he got what Ice was trying to say. "It's kind of like when the Amaurotines were questioned, and they'd just start repeating what they'd said. They had no information beyond what they were given... 'as actors in a play'; I believe Alisaie put it." Angel shook his head a little, "S-Still, that wouldn't really be a slight-of-hand trick, or they would've had a taste.

Ice gave in, then nodded, "Okay, okay... I just... I still don't trust him," the Warrior growled. He took a deep breath, then changed the subject for now. "Do you have everything? I believe we're supposed to join Cassard at the Amaro Launch soon."

Angel nodded, then glanced one more time around the room. Certain they had everything, they left to head out.

* * *  
Once they arrived at the Launch, Angel hurried forward to greet Cassard; the Galdjent merchant who'd first taken them to Amh Araeng to meet Alisaie. He raised a hand in greeting toward the two Miqo'te, then gestured to a Hume and a Ronso nearby. 

"Petyr, Vigot, could you two go check on the last delivery? It's running late and we need to head out within the bell."

"Yessir," Petyr nodded, then ran off with Vigot towards the Crystalline Mean. Cassard then sighed and handed his notebook to a female Mystel assistant, who nodded and hurried off to a stack of crates. Angel flicked his tail curiously as Ice stopped beside him.

"Hey, Cassard," Ice raised a hand in greeting.

The Galdjent merchant smiled at the two Miqo'te and greeted them back. "Ice! Angel! It's good to see you again. I was told to expect you both on this trip."

"Are you okay?" Angel curled his tail worriedly.

Cassard sighed a little, then rubbed the back of his head, "Aye, but we've been waiting on the last delivery of a few crates of supplies." He gestured to Ice and Angel, "We're also short on escorts to Mord Souq, but the guards told us you were both joining us. I hate to impose," he was being polite. His expression _begged_ the two Warriors of Darkness to escort him to Mord Souq.

Angel smiled, then perked his ears, "We'd be happy to help. You're making space for us in your caravan, it's only fair we do something in return."

Ice hadn't gotten a chance to volunteer them or make a comment about how they had clearly been volunteered. Angel was right, though, it was a fair trade for transportation. He put a hand on his hip, and looked thoughtful, "Is there anything we can do to help with the delayed supplies?"

Cassard looked thoughtful, "Hm. Well, it's mostly some food to restock both Mord Souq and the Inn, as requested. We've just been loading up the rest of what we've got while we wait." He gestured over his shoulder to the stacks of crates and bags. The female Mystel they'd seen moments ago was directing the loading of the cargo.

Angel looked to Ice at that. Ice motioned to himself with a wag of his tail, "I can help with loading up the caravan!" The Warrior didn't wait for a response, and immediately moved to help. He easily hefted up one of the nearby crates of supplies, then headed off after another porter.

Angel nodded, "I can help too." The mage smiled, then shifted his own bag as he took a step forward. He wasn't quite as strong as his husband, but he could still easily move some of the lighter bags and crates. He paused for a moment as he caught sight of Sumire and Yuki hurrying off towards the Crystalline Mean. Angel blinked, then shook his head to refocus on Cassard, "That is, i-if you'd like?"

Cassard nodded, "Aye. Much appreciated." He hadn't noticed Angel's momentary distraction. The Galdjent merchant just smiled at the two husbands, then moved to help give directions to Angel, Ice, and the rest of his crew for loading the caravan while they waited on the food supplies.

* * *  
Once the cargo had been moved, sorted, and verified, Angel and Ice then helped load the rest onto the carriages. Ice handed off a particularly heavy crate he'd helped another porter carry to the second carriage, then paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. He looked past his husband, who delivered a weighty satchel to the driver. Ice put his hands on his hips as an Elven Crystarium guard approached him. Angel turned, then tilted his head curiously as the guard saluted to Ice; who also tilted his head in confusion. 

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I bear messages from the Exarch for Ice Farran and Angel Lockhart. You are they, correct?" 

Ice simply nodded; at which, the guard continued, "Our lord wishes you both a safe journey. Should any sort of problem arise, simply let him know, and aid shall be sent as soon as possible." The guard reached into a delivery satchel and presented two letters. Ice took them both, then immediately handed the one with Angel's name on it to his husband; it felt slightly thicker than his own. The mage blinked as he took it, then held it against his chest for the moment.

Ice smiled at the guard, "Thank you very much." He glanced back to Angel for a moment to see him hugging the letter a bit, and chuckled. "Tell him we appreciate that, and will make sure to contact him if anything comes up." He nodded at his own words. The Elven guard smiled as she saluted, then turned to hurry off along the same path that Angel had noticed Sumire and Yuki running earlier.

The blonde Miqo'te looked to his husband as the guard headed away. Angel seemed happy about the letter he held, and Ice found himself chuckling again. A moment afterward, a Ronso and a Hume approached, pushing a cart with a few crates and a bag on it. Cassard waved as he stopped behind the two Miqo'te. His voice drew their attention to the approaching cart.

"Petyr, Vigot, glad to see you return! It looks like you got our missing good supplies."

The Ronso nodded as they stopped for a moment beside Cassard, "Aye, Petyr was excellent at diplomacy."

Petyr blushed slightly, then waved his hand, "It wasn't _diplomacy_ , Vigot! They were running behind and were short-staffed. I just offered to help and signed the delivery order." Petyr turned to Cassard, then bowed with his hands clasped in front of his head. "S-Sorry, Sir! I figured it would speed up the delivery if we signed that we took possession of the goods and just brought it up ourselves!"

Cassard waved a hand, "It did. It did. I didn't realize everywhere was so short on staff," He looked thoughtful, then shook his head s moment later. "Either way, that's the last thing we need to load, head over to the carriages and get it on board."

"Aye, Sir!" The two seemed relieved they weren't in trouble; at least for now; then hurried over to the female Mystel. She seemed to give them both an earful as she directed the supplies, but Cassard spoke up again to draw attention back to him.

"Well then. Finally, the food shipment has arrived!" He smiled, "We'll just need to leave the delivery cart with Katniss, but if you're ready to go to Amh Araeng you can find a spot on the nearest carriage if you'd rather, or you can ride one of the spare Amaro alongside us." He pointed to the less-loaded one, which had room for passengers, the other cart had heavier items and no room for any of the crew to sit; save one seat for someone to guard the rear. There were four spare Amaro saddled to fly along with the carriages; they were there to share the burden of the heavier carriages on long journeys, but still needed riders to follow the caravan.

Angel looked up to Ice, then back to Cassard. He nodded, but he didn't speak. The merchant nodded back, gestured to the Amaro, then headed over to the Mystel for his clipboard and some paperwork. 

Angel slipped his letter into his travel bag, then moved to one of the Amaro. He reached up carefully to gently pet its head, carefully got into the saddle, then spoke quietly, "Thank you for the ride." He flicked his ears, then petted the Amaro again. The Amaro seemed grateful for the petting, then nuzzled back in response. Angel's mount seemed calm, and patiently waited for a signal, just enjoying the pets for now.

Ice did the same thing as Angel, then hopped onto his Amaro's back. He pat its head again gently, with a smile. They reminded him so much of chocobos, but he wouldn't openly admit that he liked these guys better. They certainly smelled better that's for sure. Chocobos could get quite stinky. His mount seemed eager to head off, perhaps sensing Ice's energy to get moving.

Once the two Miqo'te were settled, Petyr hopped on one of the two spare mounts, then looked over to his boss. Cassard made sure his crew was settled, then hopped onto the remaining Amaro. Once he was ready to fly, he gave a sharp whistle. The birdhorses all stood, then headed off to the platform in an orderly fashion. Cassard and Petyr led the caravan, Ice and Angel brought up the rear.

* * *  
The caravan landed in Amh Araeng without incident, and they unloaded far quicker than they had loaded. There was a large, covered cart this time that had been waiting for them at the landing point. He hooked up two of the spare Amaro, then gestured to the sides of the cart that had space for passengers. Angel nodded, and hopped up to sit on the ledge on the side. Ice waited for a moment to see if he might be needed to help, but hopped up beside Angel when the last crate was loaded and they began securing the back of the cart.

Two Crystarium Guards arrived from the direction of Mord Souq as the supplies were secured on the covered cart. One was a young Viis, the other, an older Drahn. They both saluted at Ice and Angel, then fell into a formation behind the cart as Cassard gestured to them. Angel frowned a little at all the silence, but turned his attention to his husband as the cart began moving.

"The cart has made deliveries far easier and faster. The Mord managed to get hold of it after the night returned." The Galdjent began, as they headed off across the sand. "Most of the trouble comes from bandits and wild animals now. The cart's made larger shipments possible, even though the travel time is just a bit slower. Guards are usually quite happy to tag along, since we usually travel at night, but with the important supplies we had to restock this time..." Cassard sighed and rubbed the back of his head as the Amaro made a noise then adjusted their pace, "Guess that's probably some of the short staff now that I think on it." 

"Well, we're grateful for the ride here, Cassard," Angel replied with a grateful smile.

"Certainly glad you two agreed to help guard the caravan too." The Viis guard pouted slightly as she lost a pace beside the Drahn.

Ice grinned, "No problem! You were kind enough to give us a ride here on your caravan, helping watch over it is the least we can do."

"We're always happy to help," Angel added with a curl of his tail.

Cassard laughed gratefully, then nodded and went back to driving the cart. They weren't that far from the landing site; the conversation hadn't lasted very long. As they crossed the sands of Amh Araeng, Angel looked about to watch for trouble. The trip continued in silence. It was rather boring, but the two Miqo'te weren't about to argue against a ride versus walking.

Once they were over the bridge, Ice remembered the letter he'd put in his bag, then hurriedly dug it out. It was a hand-written note from the Exarch; it mostly said the same thing that the guard had told them, but the personal touch felt rather nice.

"I nearly forgot about the letters. Mine is similar to what the guard had said." Ice smiled, "Still a nice gesture nonetheless." He looked to his husband, "What about yours?"

Angel fidgeted, "I-I don't know yet. It's... still in my bag."

"It felt heavier than mine," Ice folded his letter, then put it away again. "Just curious."

"I'll... read it later," the mage smiled, then flicked his ears.

Ice looked at him thoughtfully, but said nothing else about it. They could see Mord Souq ahead of them, _perhaps he was waiting until they stopped?_ Angel looked apologetic; Ice just nodded, then stretched as he leaned back a bit. The Warrior had just put his hands behind his head to relax when it hit him; _the Echo_. Ice almost fell forward holding his head, it had hit him so fast. 

"Ice?!" Angel cried sharply as soon as his husband had grabbed his head. He put his arms around the Warrior's shoulders in support.

* * *

It was night time, or at least it seemed to be... Ice looked around; this place wasn't Mord Souq. He heard a river nearby, and the city in the distance, past what seemed to be a park... It looked like... Amaurot?

...Ah... that's right; he'd felt the Echo hit him on the cart. So... whose memory was this...?

He felt himself walking along the bank of a river. This place felt out of the way, a good distance from the city. There was a small bank of bushes and trees ahead of him, the perfect place to quietly think, out of sight.

It appeared someone was doing just that; a young, pale-skinned boy sat curled up at the edge of the river. His shaggy, light blue hair currently covered his face, but he was extremely familiar. The hood of his dark gray robe was pushed back, and the white half mask of an Amaurotine rested on the ground beside him.

Ice glanced down at himself; he seemed to be in the same kind of robes himself. A flicker of orange ran past his feet, over to the boy on the ground. Gentle bells drew Ice's attention back to the scene before him. The boy looked to his other side, the tails of the orange creature; that Ice knew was named Ambrosia; were barely visible just past this boy. The blue-haired boy turned his head to smile at Ice; there was a sadness behind his green eyes that made Ice pause. This boy made him feel like he was looking at his husband; his face, his eyes, the emotions he seemed to be trying to hide with his smile. Ice felt like something was wrong, yet this whole scene was different...

"Krystallos...? You came... I-I didn't think you would..."

...even his voice sounded like Angel when he was upset.

"Of course I did, Asopus! You invited me, didn't you?" The words fell from Ice's mouth of their own accord. He felt Krystallos smile as he hurried over to the boy's side and carefully sat down... though Ice himself felt confused.

_'Asopus'? Who is this person...?_

"I-I did." Asopus blushed a bit, then looked back down to the river. "But... m-most people... avoid me... S-So I didn't think... you'd... show." Asopus moved a hand to pet Ambrosia beside him, as he pulled his knees further against him.

Ice felt Krystallos take a breath. He then looked across the river to the clear, glass building; a greenhouse, it looked like from here. Ice could see the reflection of Krystallos, Asopus, and Ambrosia in the glass across the river. Short, shaggy, blonde hair swayed on his head whenever he moved, but his ears were missing. He was not a Miqo'te, yet this reflection seemed extremely familiar... even with the white half mask over his eyes. Ice noticed Krystallos wasn't much older in appearance to Asopus, though he was clearly taller.

_This Krystallos... looks kind of like a Hyur version of me...?_

_Is this..._ **_really_ ** _... the Echo...?_

A few moments had passed without Krystallos responding.

"I-I'm sorry, Krystallos... I-I didn't mean to... b-bother you," Asopus had shifted in the silence. He hugged Ambrosia against him, and had started to cry.

Krystallos spoke again as he reached over to the younger boy's face. His voice was comforting, "Hey, don't cry. I've just been thinking a lot since I met you, Asopus..." Krystallos smiled as Asopus looked over to him. Krystallos' hand cupped his cheek.

Ice felt the sense of the Echo fade swiftly. The last thing he heard from Krystallos was...

"You don't bother me at all. Tell me, why would I avoid my--"

* * *

The blonde-haired Miqo'te gripped the edge of the seat as the vision passed rather suddenly; giving him a rather unusual bout of dizziness.

_What was that...?_

Angel had recognized the signs of the Echo, but was still worried about the sudden incidence of it; and the fact that Ice could have fallen and hurt himself if he hadn't caught him.

Ice shook his head, but it didn't seem to clear the dizziness he felt. He looked over to his husband; Angel's expression was concerned, and a bit scared.

"Ice...? Are you alright? That... Th-That looked... a bit," he paused to think of the right word, his ears twitched in thought, "...intense."

Ice nodded slightly; he stared at Angel. His face, his eyes, the scared look on his face... for a brief moment, he saw the face of Asopus he'd seen in his vision. Ice reached up with a wince to rub at his head.

Angel frowned, "Ice..."

"Feeling a bit sick?" Cassard's voice interrupted, "The desert can do that sometimes."

The cart slowed as they entered Mord Souq. The Drahn guard spoke up as he and the Viis headed up to speak with Cassard once the cart stopped. "We can help unload for your deliveries, today."

The Viis guard chimed in agreement, "After all, we're heading back to the Crystarium after this!" She took the first satchel handed off by one of the crew. "The trip was pretty uneventful."

"You would have been fine without the extra guards!" The Drahn smiled at Cassard, then took a crate, as directed.

Cassard chuckled, but his tone was a bit serious, "Yes, well, I prefer to not need them and be ready, than to risk needing what I don't have." He shook his head, then turned to smile at the two Miqo'te that were just disembarking from their seats. "Why don't you two go find a nice shady place to rest while we make our deliveries? We may be a while, so just relax for a bit."

Angel blinked, then nodded to Cassard's suggestion. "A-Ah. Thank you, Cassard. I-I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." The Galdjent smiled, "Just glad I can report back to the Exarch that I got you all here safe, as promised." He picked up his clipboard and gestured towards some tables in the shade. "Rest up. You've still got to travel to the Inn in the south."

"You're right," Angel replied, "Thank you, Cassard," he nodded as he helped his husband towards the tables to sit down.

"Come!" Cassard called to the guards, "My first client is towards the back today."

The Viis Guard sighed, "Oh alright, I'm hurrying." She hefted the satchel over her shoulder to follow the merchant.

Angel helped Ice sit on a chair, then pulled another chair over to sit beside him at the table. One of the Mord brought two cups of water over once he'd seen Ice and Angel.

"Everything okay?"

"Ah! Y-Yes," Angel responded, surprised. He nodded, then looked back to Ice, "We'll be okay. Thank you for the water."

"No problem! If you like more, call or come to shop!" The Mord waved, then scurried off. Angel chuckled slightly.

Ice leaned forward, essentially laying on the table. His head still pounded and he still felt dizzy. The after-effects of the Echo didn't usually last this long, did they...?

Angel drank a bit of the water from his cup as he looked to his husband. The background noise was fairly quiet; boxes and crates being moved around, merchants discussing trades or bartering prices, travelers asking questions as they made their way through.

The table was sort of cool, as it was in the shade of a tower. It seemed to help Ice's dizziness subside faster. The Warrior looked up to find the cup in front of his face; without a word he drank some of the warm water. He made a face at the temperature, then sighed slightly as he sat up straighter.

"Are you feeling better, Ice?" Angel's voice was worried, but he gave the Warrior a small smile.

Ice returned the smile, then nodded. "Yeah... I think the rest helped." Ice leaned back as he looked up to the bright blue, midday sky. "It felt weird..."

"The Echo...?" Angel tilted his head. Ice nodded in response. The mage frowned, then looked at his cup. "How so...?

"It was like a vision, but... also... kinda like a memory...?" Ice blinked as he trailed off. Angel had said the same thing this morning when he woke from that night terror... 'it almost felt like the Echo'... was this the same sort of thing...?

Angel, for his part, kept his face mostly in the cup. He heard his husband give a frustrated growl, which drew his attention. "I-Ice...?"

"What did he _do_...?"

"Wh-Who...?" The mage sat his cup down, confused.

Ice growled again, "The _Ascian_." The Warrior looked up from his water, "We were all fine, until he returned. I hadn't had anything weird happen til today."

"I-Ice," Angel stuttered.

"He had a response for everything!"

"I-I know, but we _did_ get another piece of our souls," Angel responded, quietly.

Ice paused, then sighed. "I just don't trust him. It can't be that simple." Ice reached up; his head still pounded, but it eased as they rested.

"I'm... not sure... I _want_ it... to be true," Angel mumbled over his cup.

"Oh...?" Ice sounded confused.

Angel frowned, "If what I saw was a memory... Then... was it mine...? I don't... I don't recall a lot of it, but... s-some of it... came back... during the... fight."

"What I just saw was," Angel took his hand as Ice spoke. The Warrior took a moment to breathe before he continued. "It looked like Amaurot. Except, the place I was at wasn't anywhere I remember seeing in the Tempest. There was someone else with me. He called me... Krystallos?" Ice shook his head a bit, "It was weird. He had this light blue, shaggy-ish hair... and... your eyes."

Angel froze at the description, wide-eyed. He looked up from his cup, to his husband, and the expression caused Ice to make a face.

"More like... your face," Ice trailed off. Angel's ears pinned back, and he looked down to the table as he bit his lip. They both recalled the conversation in the Ocular this morning.

Sumire's comment that if it's true that they all gained another fragment of our souls... maybe they just needed time to adjust to it. The Exarch's admission that he wasn't questioning the suggestions. Angel and Shoto mentioning their magic felt stronger.

"...but _creation magic...?_ " Ice muttered, still unsure. Angel flicked an ear towards him as he spoke, then bit his lip. The White Mage shifted the chair over to touch his husband's.

"I'm scared, Ice." Angel nearly whispered. His voice broke through Ice's thoughts. He then slipped his arms around Ice's chest as the Warrior put his arm around the mage's shoulders.

"What scares you, love?" Ice looked down to Angel's blue-tipped ears, as he flicked one thoughtfully.

"Your description of the boy you saw... sounded familiar. I remember a similar image from this morning..." He nuzzled against Ice, then purred worriedly, "Ever since the fight, I've remembered fragments of my dream... the name I was called..."

"...Asopus?" Ice questioned.

Angel took a sharp breath in, with a squeak. The feelings he had when he woke up washed over him again. The fear, the sorrow, the...

"Angel, it's okay. I'm here." Ice's reassurance helped him recenter.

"I don't want it to be memories, Ice. When I think about him, I feel so sad. I remember feeling... pity. I can't clearly recall everything I dreamt, but the mixed feelings are still here," he moved a hand to touch Ice's chest. He had recalled Anubis' voice; that he had _recognized_ it; but couldn't recall the context clearly. The words had come back because of Anubis' voice.

 _Whether you believe it or not, you still have reasons to live, Asopus. For now,_ **_let me fight your battles for you._ ** _Just rest. Please._

He remembered feeling a resonance of emotion with Asopus, and that he didn't ever want to feel that way again. "Your... Your vision... i-if you saw the same boy... then... th-these really _are_ memories, aren't they...?"

Ice frowned, then hugged Angel protectively, "We don't know that. _Did_ we actually live in Amaurot? How can we be sure it isn't some kind of Ascian trick?"

"I..." Angel frowned, then fidgeted as he looked at Ice's shirt. The Warrior had a point, there wasn't much proof at the moment, there was just belief and speculation for unanswered questions. Angel shook his head a bit.

"I'm a bit scared too, Angel." Ice whispered. The mage blinked, then looked up to find a worried smile on his husband's face. "I just... I'm not sure," he bit his lip as he paused, "I don't know how I'd handle... remembering... another life."

"For now... I'm not sure there's a lot we _can_ do... I promise to keep telling you if anything strange happens, if you'll tell me anything that happens with you" Angel's ears flicked, "Deal?"

Ice nodded with a quiet chuckle, "I can agree to that." He reached up to pet Angel's head. The mage felt a bit of relief; the Warrior did too. Ice finished his water, then looked over to the cart. It was still half full, and Cassard was going over papers. "...Looks like we've still got time to kill though. What can we do for now?"

Angel looked thoughtful, then perked his ears, "Ah! My... My letter."

"Oh yeah! You were waiting til we stopped to read it, weren't you?" Ice smiled.

Angel blushed as he reached into his bag. "S-Something like that." He pulled out the letter, then after a moment, he held it out to Ice. The Warrior blinked, then tilted his head curiously.

"Angel...?"

"C-Could you... rrrread it... to me?" Angel asked, very quietly, with an embarrassed blush on his face. Ice paused, then took the letter from Angel. He looked at it, then to his husband, then opened his mouth to ask why; Angel explained before he could ask. "I-I forrrrgot my glasses," The mage fidgeted, then looked away.

"Oh!" Ice looked to the envelope, then carefully pried it open. "We could have gone back to the room before we left."

Angel's cheeks burned brighter, and he shook his head, "I-I meant... a-at the _Library_..."

Ice paused as he pulled the letter out. He thought for just a moment, then his mouth formed into a small 'o' as he realized... Angel meant _the Source_ ; he'd left them _at home_. He was also clearly embarrassed about it. Ice realized that Angel's expressions before they left made sense now; he'd been looking for his glasses, but couldn't find them in their room.

Angel seemed to realize Ice understood, and whether he meant to be or not, was staring. The mage's face brightened in a blush, "I-I couldn't find m-my sparrre ones," he gestured to the letter, "I w-wasn't expecting... a letterrr."

"I wasn't either," Ice chuckled, then unfolded the letter. It was clearly not the same as his own, right from the outset.

" _Angel,_

_I hope you've been well since we last parted. I'm always happy to see you return with your friends. As I've said to everyone, progress continues apace, even if my research hasn't produced much in the way of new information._

_The other day, I stumbled across the Allagan storybook you read when we first met. I was reminded of how much really has happened since we first opened the tower_."

Ice paused to look over to his husband. Angel was listening to him read; eyes closed and head down. Angel's ears turned forward a bit when Ice stopped, and the Warrior smiled at him before he continued.

" _I remembered how scared you were of everything that was happening to you, yet you still pushed forward for the sake of others. I tried to follow your example whenever I got scared of what lay before me._ "

Angel fidgeted, which drew Ice's attention. "Are you okay, love?"

"E-Eh?" Angel jumped, then blushed brightly. He opened his eyes to look at Ice briefly, then down to his hands. "Er, y-yes, just... I neverrr... thought... I was that... i-inspiring."

"That's just silly," Ice replied without thinking. Angel looked up, his cheeks a brighter red as he pouted at his husband. "You've inspired lots of people. In various ways. Even a little inspiration can mean a lot to someone... you told me that in Doma."

"I-Ice..."

Ice grinned, then reached up to lightly kiss Angel's forehead. "Accept it. It's okay." Angel flustered a bit, then gestured to the letter.

"Wh-What else... d-does he say...?"

Ice chuckled at the fluster, then nodded. Angel shifted to snuggle against Ice's chest as he read the letter; the Warrior resting his arm around the mage.

" _One of the brave souls who saw me delivered to the First once said, 'the world shall ever have a place for tales of heroism, so long as we have need of inspiration in our lives'. Though he and the others had no way of knowing whether their mad scheme would amount to anything, they knew that the attempt alone would inspire hope. Or, at least, that was their own hope._ "

Angel snuggled a bit more. Despite it being Ice that was quietly reading G'raha's penned words, he could hear the Exarch's voice in his mind. Ice continued after taking a breath.

" _A more optimistic lot, one would be hard-pressed to find. They said they would definitely find a means to save our godsforsaken world! Just as soon as they had sent me on my way. Said it with such confidence that, for a fleeting moment, I half-believed them. Such faith, such courage, all in the face of unrelenting despair. For a long time, it was more than I could bear to remember them; or to remember you. But having come this far, having sent full many on their way myself, I see things more clearly."_

Ice shifted just enough to put the first page behind the second, once he'd glanced to see nothing on the back of it. 

" _To take action is to hope. To believe; or at least, to choose to believe is to take the first step towards a brighter future._

_So, I suppose now you might ask me why I tell you all of this? The answer is because I'd like you to indulge me in a little recklessness. Needless to say, I have a plan. Angel, when all is said and done, I will ask yet another favor of you. If I may ask one thing ahead of that favor, though, it's that I beg you not to think too harshly of me._

_Love, Raha_."

Angel blushed brilliantly as Ice handed over the letter and its envelope. The Warrior tried to parse what he read, as it was quite personal... yet Angel hadn't tried to stop him, nor had he made any efforts to quickly explain anything. In fact, Angel looked thoughtful. 

"...'Raha'...?" Ice asked, to break the silence. Angel put the letter back into his bag, then paused.

"I know... I-I explained that Sh-Shoto and I... both knew G'rrraha a long time ago," he looked up to Ice, then bit his lip and looked down to his bag. "H-He was," Angel trailed off, as his blush intensified, "H-He was... my first," Angel fidgeted with a strap on his bag, "My first time. I-I thought... afterrr all was said and done, We would... celebrrrate Starrrlight togetherrr," Angel's ears pinned back as he frowned, "But... he locked himself in the Towerrr."

"Angel," Ice frowned, his arm still over his husband's shoulders. Angel shook his head.

"I couldn't arrrgue with him overrr his decision. He's the only one left who could contrrrol Syrrrcus Tower, and keep it from those who would abuse its powerrr. That was farrr more important than a young Adventurrrer." The mage's tail flicked at the stumbled purr, "I don't... _blame_ him, norrr am I angry. I was just... extrrremely sad when those big doorrrs closed behind him. It hit me all at once... that I may neverrrr see him again." Angel turned to nuzzle his face against Ice. "...I trrried... verrry harrrd... to be the perrrson he saw me as. If I could neverrr see him again, then I wanted to give him a storrry he could rrread when he woke up in the futurrre. I wanted to trrry to be the 'Warrrrrior of Light' that he called me; e-even if..." The black-haired Miqo'te lowered his head with a sad smile, "Even if I couldn't see myself that way."

"I think I can say that you succeeded, love. He definitely sees you as his hero," Ice reached up to pet Angel's head. "I do wonder what kind of favor he'll ask you, though... and why he believes you might think harshly of him for asking."

Angel pulled back from his husband just enough to look up at Ice's thoughtful face. "I can't think of anything eitherrr," Angel purred, thoughtfully, then shook his head and flicked his ears. "L-Let's not dwell on it too much. I'm sure whatever he wants to ask won't be as bad as he thinks." 

Angel smiled up at Ice, who thought for a moment before he nodded and smiled back. The Warrior looked over to Cassard's cart, and it seemed nearly empty. The two Amaro that had pulled the cart were now saddled up and seemed to each be carrying delivery bags. Ice smiled, gently squeezed Angel in a hug, then stood up carefully. Angel reached for him briefly.

"I feel better now," Ice responded with a grin. "Don't worry, love, I'll be fine."

Angel frowned, "If you're _sure_ ," the mage trailed off, then stood up as well. He readjusted his bag as he followed his husband.

The two Miqo'te hurried over to Cassard as he gestured to one of his crew. "Just get these crates to the carriage, and we're ready to head back to the Crystarium." The Galdjent merchant spotted Ice and Angel stop nearby, then greeted them with a smile, "Feeling better now?"

"I am. The Mord gave us some water," Ice nodded, then looked over to the cart. "Heading back to the Crystarium...?" The Warrior sounded confused.

Cassard nodded, "Aye, we've made our deliveries and exchanged for Mord goods to sell in the Markets."

"But what about the Inn?" Angel asked before Ice could.

Cassard just smiled, then gestured to the two saddled Amaro. "Provided you don't mind, you two can make that delivery when you arrive. The Amaro are ready to head south and carry you across the desert if you're set to head off." He put his hands on his hips, "I promised I'd get you the whole way, and you promised to guard the caravan. This feels like a fair exchange. You two can guard the delivery to the Inn while you travel."

"Sneaky," Ice grinned, then pointed at Cassard. The Galdjent just grinned back.

"I like to call it shrewd," he nodded, "I trust you know your way from here?"

"We do," Ice flexed an arm, "Leave the delivery to us."

"Great! And..." Cassard gestured to the two Miqo'te, "Say hello to Miss Alisaie for me when you get there. She barely said a word to me last time I brought her here. Seemed rather distracted."

"We will," Angel replied as he perked his ears, "Thank you, Cassard!"

Cassard grinned, then nodded and gestured to the Amaro as he began to walk towards the cart. "They're trained to head back to the Crystarium once they've made their deliveries. You won't have to worry about them after you've arrived. Safe journey, my friends, and thank you both for the escort here." The two guards that had come along both saluted at Ice and Angel as they were ready to escort the caravan back to the landing point once everything was settled.


	14. The Way Forwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that things settled down, the group of four are destined for Eulmore to meet up with Alphinaud. What awaits our dear Warriors of Light on their travels?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Hoping to get back on a normal release schedule. Our crew had some things come up IRL over the holidays. Hope you enjoy the new chapter and Thank you for your support! Remember that you can also read our story with images at http://shardweavers.tumblr.com!

Shoto’s hands paused as she came to the end stages of folding her clothes for travel, her eyes drawn down towards the end of the bed where her big brown pack sat, already half-full…

It seemed impossible that it had only been this morning that the place was half-destroyed, scarred by combat like the war zones of Ala Mhigo. And yet it was spotless, now; everything restored to its proper place, not a sign of damage. She’d expected to have to go to the Crystalline Mean and recruit a whole team of people for repairs, but it seemed their local Ascian had had other ideas; he’d actually come to find her as she was heading there, and indicated that she should instead return to her quarters.

And so she had, and found them in this spotless condition! Shoto had wanted to thank Emet-Selch, but he’d sauntered off before she could speak a word, leaving her flummoxed--she’d taken up packing to occupy her scattered thoughts. He’d soon be back from wherever he’d been headed to, she reasoned; it was _he_ who’d been insistent on joining the party, in the name of “keeping them out of trouble.”  
  
 _Ha! As though he wasn’t the_ _cause_ _of it!_

She felt a brief flare of amusement, but it was rapidly chased away by recriminations that made her sigh, ceasing to fold the clothes and putting her chin against her fist. Everything that emotionally surrounded the Ascian was so Twelve-damned complicated.

It didn’t help that the idea of traveling with him brought up memories of the first time he’d accompanied them around Norvrandt--the odd intimacy she’d felt with him, even then, the closeness. The fury at his betrayal, a betrayal that hurt her so much more than it seemed to affect any of her friends and compatriots. And then, that moment, in the ashes of Amaurot at the bottom of the sea--

“ _Remember us. Remember that we once lived._ ”

Just thinking about it made tears come to her eyes, and she only half-understood why, even now. 

_Because I’m like her, like Azem…_

...Every time she thought that, it felt like she was so close to a memory and yet so far, like she had a puzzle in her mind very nearly solved, but the last piece was missing and no amount of scrounging could find it. It was maddening. 

_Bah. Now’s not the time, the others will be waiting for me._ _  
__  
_She finished cramming everything into the pack and fastened it up, buckling the straps that held it shut tight, then hoisted it onto her back and headed out of the room. Just outside, Sumire was leaning against a railing; when the Dragoon saw her, his ears flicked to alertness, and heterochromatic eyes met hers.

Shoto had to admit, she was a little surprised. “Hey! Is it just you, or is Yuki about…?”

“She’s not,” Sumire sighed, and the intense regret in his voice, the lilt of sadness, only served to increase Shoto’s level of flummoxed-ness. If she had previously been at “the moogles of Ishgard want a diplomatic liaison to the Twelveswood,” she was now at “the moogles of Ishgard want a diplomatic liaison with Feo Uhl, and it has to be a kobold for some reason.”

The confusion showed on her face readily enough that Sumire practically leapt to attention, waving off her concern with both hands. “Er, that is to say, she’s not ready yet! She’s still getting ready! She went for a walk to clear her head, and refocus, after that business this morning, with the Ascian, and the fight, and such!”

Shoto was absolutely certain that there was more to this; she was so certain she would’ve bet an exorbitant amount of gil, but her Scholar’s intuition said to leave well enough alone, at least for now. “Well, that’s alright, then. Um, do you want to wait for her? I can meet you both at the Exarch’s Gate when she _is_ ready, there’s no rush.”  
  
Sumire flushed. “I-I promise, we’ll be right behind you, just…”  
  
Shoto smiled and shook her head. “Like I said, _no rush_.”

* * *

Where Hades had gotten to was a tall tree near the gate of the Crystarium, where he sat beneath a curtain of lavender-colored leaves, his back nestled against the trunk quite comfortably, to the point the Ascian might be tempted to doze off.

He was certain the Warriors would find him soon enough; their suspicious natures wouldn’t let him go unsupervised for long, of course. Let them hurry to bundle up their things; it gave him time for contemplation, time alone with his thoughts, that he sorely needed.

First, and paramount, he had to process how far and how fast this...eighth Rejoining was coming along, for them. Every single one of them was taking to their shards with a speed and natural attachment that shouldn’t have been possible. It should’ve required a monumental effort, the fuel that a Calamity brought; everything the Ascians had learned said as much.

...How were they this far along, simply by linking themselves to the ghosts of this land’s heroes? 

By Zodiark, they were using _creation magic_! He’d managed to keep himself calm and collected while dealing with them because he didn’t want to show his shock. His fellow Paragons of the Red, all members of the Convocation, had taken years to regain that power…!

Second, of course, there was--once again--the issue of _her_.

...Of _Shoto_ , he mentally corrected himself. 

...It felt strange, didn’t it? To call her by her name? 

For so long, he’d thought of her as just _Warrior of Light_ , as _that_ Warrior of Light, their leader, the prime amongst them with the soul that shone the brightest and with a troublingly familiar golden color. _The Hero._

She’d told him her name, then, of course, but…It hadn’t seemed important, at the time. 

Indeed, the familiar color of her soul made her company, frankly, _difficult_ , because when he looked, and he couldn’t stop from looking, he remembered what he’d lost. He ceased to be here, on the First, and he was in Amaurot again. It was the Final Days, again, and he was desperately promising Persephone--  
  
 _I’ll protect you. Always._

His last oath. His greatest failure.

Being around her cut his soul to the metaphysical bone, back then. Just short conversations had made him feel a combination of longing and hatred so intense he thought he’d go mad. The moment he had an opportunity to betray her, to taunt her, to assume the role of the villain, had almost been a _relief_.

...So…

Why was it so different now? Her presence now was...almost friendly. Comforting. The glow of her soul was like a familiar lamp, a lantern that imitated the sun, but not to mock; rather to pay homage. He’d been telling himself it was gratitude for her selfless acts on his behalf, but…

He’d lived a thousand years and more, witnessed eras rise and fall. This wasn’t something so simple. He was Emet-Selch, the Angel of Truth, with all that that implied; he could not be deceived, even by himself. There was something deeper, some root to their connection.  
  
 _It would be so simple if I believed she was…_

 _But that’s ridiculous. I’d know,_ he reasoned with himself. His beloved, his Azem, would have known better than to trust in the world-shattering Mother, ever--not that he judged Shoto for it, necessarily. And wasn’t that proof she was a different person? Moreover, if he’d antagonized _Persephone_ the way he’d antagonized _Shoto_ , he could never forgive himself. Obviously.

...It was still so strange, though. 

How soul-wrenching it had been to walk beside her before, and how nice it seemed now. It was almost freeing to even think her name-- _Shoto. Shoto. Shoto._

A response came back to him, confused and rather harried. “ _Emet-Selch…?”_

The Ascian leapt up and almost hit his head on a low-hanging tree branch. 

Zodiark’s actual wings of shadow damn it, how had he forgotten--if he could hear _her_ thoughts, she could hear _his_! 

“ _Is something wrong?”_ he felt her think, and he hastily shook his head, pushing his bangs out of his face and straightening his garments.

 _“No! Nothing’s amiss, good hero! I am completely fine! I was...extremely...bored._ ” He tried to radiate the appropriate level of detachedness. “ _Had you and yours taken any longer, I might’ve fallen asleep against this tree.”_

Exasperation radiated from her, but there was an odd warmth to it, like he could feel her roll her eyes. It was…kind of cute.

...He managed to shield this thought from her and also to drop it down a metaphorical abyss forever. 

“ _Well, we’re here now. Look to your right._ ”

And there, indeed, she was, radiating that warm yellow-orange color off her, her soul dancing like tamed fire; he couldn’t help but smile as she approached, though he let it slip to his usual smirk as her companions followed close behind--the Dragoon and the Summoner. The Viera folded her arms and her lips curled into a small frown as she saw him.  
  
“I’m surprised,” Yuki grumbled. “I would’ve thought you’d dismiss yourself and teleport away to Eulmore to do whatever it is you want there, by now.”

“My dear,” Hades replied breezily, “I have no need to deceive any of you, as I thought you understood. I said my intention was to travel with you, and keep your leader here from any... _reckless_ acts, and so I’m going to do that.”

The Viera gave an angry “hmph!” and looked away; the Ascian merely hefted his bag with a shrug. Shoto blinked as she realized he wasn’t wearing his normal, regal attire of a Garlean Emperor, but rather a long, black robe appropriate for a mage of rank, with metallic trim that put one in the mind of dark steel rather than silver; it had two pauldrons that were practically an afterthought, white-gold utility belts that held a variety of small items, and a massive cowl that looked like a gigantic religious collar when it was down, trimmed with fur. 

...It was simplistic, but it fit him; in fact, he looked quite good in it, a thought the Ascian caught and allowed himself a slightly saucy smirk to. “I do hope my new attire is appropriate? I felt that traipsing about looking the part of _Imperator_ might be a little gauche, given our destination and the Leveilleur boy’s delicate sensibilities.”  
  
Shoto couldn’t help but blush. “It’s, it’s nice. It’s quite appropriate, yes, and probably better than explaining the glory of Garlemald to everyone you meet.”  
  
“Dear hero, that would get boring for me, too! I’d mix it up,” he teased. “I’d talk about the glory of Allag, too, and there’s a lot more material there.”

...This conversation had deepened Yuki’s frown to a “seething” level, which Sumire took notice of and loudly cleared his throat, interrupting.  
  
“While we’re on the road,” he put in, “I...I know it’s early days, but I’m still curious about the basic concepts of this...Creation Magic.”

Emet-Selch gave the Dragoon a mildly nonplussed look, shrugging. 

“It is, as I tried to emphasize before, chiefly a matter of focus and will. You have to hold the image and the structure in your mind’s eye, consistently, and channel the aether towards the end of willing it into being--not requesting it to be, _willing_ it to be.” He lifted one hand, clasping it into a fist, and paused for a moment, a shadowy aura swirling around him as he concentrated visibly; when he unfurled his fingers, a small white blossom was in his palm, which blew away into petals in a breeze.

Sumire cocked his head to the side, nodding and biting his lip, unsure quite how to respond; Yuki, for her part, half-audibly scoffed.

_So it’s just that simple, huh?_

Fine. She could do that much, the Summoner reasoned; closing her eyes, she called her own aether around her, the world seeming to flex and seethe with its glowing aura. She cupped her hands and stood there. 

...And stood there.

...Her brow furrowed tighter and her grimace deepened. 

_What am I thinking…?_

_This is just...just childish nonsense! It’s the Ascian’s version of a prank! It’s foolishness!_

Her concentration finally broke and she dismissed her aether when she heard the Paragon chuckle, her expression furious. “Th-this is ridiculous! I didn’t feel even the slightest ripple of actual magic, you--!”

Hades couldn’t help his smirk, though he did try to cover it, to his credit. “Well, I did say it was _chiefly_ about those virtues, my good Viera--it also has to do with the _center_ of one’s focus, with what feels most natural to you. A sort of creative paradigm or talent, unique to you and connected to your soul; in Amaurot it was something everyone came to by intuition. Alas, less so in these shattered worlds.”

Sumire’s ears flicked; he remained silent, but he looked even more thoughtful than before; this much was actually a familiar concept to him, a legitimate one. He’d had to learn how to use the aether to “see” with his right eye, after the Dravanian attack on his home--it wasn’t something you could force, you had to naturally let the aether flow into the eye and follow what it sensed. At first, the sensation had been totally alien, but once he learned to relax and incorporate it, it was second nature.

...So everyone had a separate focus, then? _I wonder what mine would even be_ …

Concentrating on the idea for more than a moment, though, nearly made him nod off where he was standing, a huge wave of sudden tiredness washing over his body. He shook his head violently, even as another breeze blew over the group.

_Better consider that later._

Shoto, finally, who’d been absorbing the conversation herself, had also closed her eyes, but the Scholar was recalling the moment of an errant flower’s arrival in the vase. How it had looked, how it had smelled, the shape of its blossom and its stem. She imagined its rootwork...the bright red of the petals, so vibrant, like flame. The softness of its round leaves…

She felt the sudden urge to flick her wrist outward, and didn’t stop herself, caught up in the moment and remembering in the back of her mind what Hades had just said about the focus coming naturally…

Her aether swirled, spiked, crackled. She heard her fairies shout tinny alarums as her eyes opened…

A flower’s thin stem had burst from the earth in front of her, with familiar flame-red petals, still emitting a golden wisp of aether. As her concentration broke, it dissipated, but it left all four of them staring in awe, before Emet-Selch’s face became a genuine smile, applauding.

“You see? Not a completed creation, not solidly anchored, but a fine attempt! Well done, my dear.”  
  
Shoto’s cheeks burned in a blush, but she couldn’t help her own small smile of pride, and Sumire looked impressed, applauding a little himself; Yuki crossed her arms and bit her lip, turning away slightly, though she too looked almost amazed.

“Th-thanks,” Shoto said. “I feel a little...light-headed, though…”

“Keep in mind that it _does_ draw on your aether, though,” Emet-Selch reminded her, not unkindly. “And as yours is already depleted, further practice should, potentially, wait...but for a first conscious attempt, it was quite impressive. Why, we’ll be progressing to advanced lessons in no time.”

Shoto’s cheeks got even redder, and yet...her smile didn’t leave, and something in her felt warm at the praise. “B-be that as it may, we’ll have to explain those lessons to Alphinaud before long. Let’s get going, it’s nearly midday!”

* * *

Nearly a bell passed in silence as the group made their way towards Sullen. 

Emet-Selch had ended up in the lead of the party, entirely by accident; perhaps it was some quirk of Ascian bodies, as the Angel of Truth seemed not to tire at all with each yalm, and his strides were quite long. Behind him followed Sumire, whose training under the watchful eye of the Holy See had served him well athletically...and then was Shoto, who was valiantly trying to keep up, despite being visibly drained. Yuki brought up the rear, mostly to keep watch over her struggling friend...and also due to her own foul mood, expressed in haphazard kicks to the ground as she went, errant stones tumbling into the Lakeland weeds.

The Viera kept her eyes on the two men in front of them...well, the man and the Ascian. She was glad that Sumire hadn’t inquired further into her...admitted overreaction from earlier, and that he seemed to be his usual self. That was good. They could put all that silliness behind them, where it belonged, and where it would definitely never bother her again, no sir.

...Never. Bother. Her. Again.

Her eyes on Emet-Selch, of course, were for totally separate reasons involving her completely justified suspicion. He was nothing but trouble, and that little...light show with the flowers had only solidified that notion. She knew he was up to something. She couldn’t figure it out with the evidence she had _now_ , but she knew it in her bones.

So she’d watch, and wait, and when he slipped up she’d call down the wrath of every elemental force she knew a name for on his head.

Her general seething was interrupted as Shoto nearly tripped over a larger-than-usual rock and swayed under the weight of her pack, grimacing and trying to re-hoist it with obvious difficulty, but it looked like without help she’d fall over. She was valiantly attempting to stay balanced when Sumire almost leapt back to her, gently taking the pack in his hands.

“Shoto? If you'd like, I could help carry your pack for now?”

A sad, half-smile appeared on her face, she was not about to argue, as she knew her strength was waning. She really _had_ taken too much of a risk with her aether; she felt so drained, so weary. 

Emet-Selch had stopped as Shoto almost tripped, too--he looked like he’d been going to render aid, but Sumire had got to her side first, and so the Ascian simply observed with crossed arms and a carefully neutral expression, trying to focus on her aetheric levels and making sure they were still _safe_. For the moment, they seemed so.

As Sumire hoisted the pack, a small piece of dark fabric fell from it; caught by the wind, it nearly fluttered off to become lost in Lakeland, but Yuki saw it and snatched it out of the air before this could occur. Neither of the Miqo’te seemed to notice.

Yuki looked curiously over the fabric. It had originally been quite richly woven, made of some rarefied fabric, but it had become a little threadbare; Shoto must’ve kept it with her throughout her travels. A keepsake of some kind? 

She tilted her head as she examined the image on it; the sigil of a crimson unicorn’s head, lined with gold, surmounting some sort of laurel wreath, it looked like, in the same colors. It looked like the heraldry of some noble family...a High House of Ishgard, perhaps? She vaguely remembered a familiar description from one of Sumire’s tales. She shoved it into her pocket; this had to be returned to Shoto at the earliest possible opportunity.

* * *

They had nearly made it to the Source’s edge, and the docks of the Weed were within sight, when Yuki got her opportunity; Shoto, even without her burden, had paused in the middle of the road, bent over, her hands on her knees and her breathing labored. 

Sumire looked back at their friend with concern, and Hades practically went over to hover at her side. 

“Perhaps... we should... take a short break...?” the Dragoon ventured. 

“I’m sorry.” Shoto huffed before she found a spot to sit; atop a nearby rock. Yuki sat down beside her, biting her lip.

“Are you sure you're alright? We could've waited in the Crystarium for at least another day.”  
  
The Scholar simply shook her head, “No, I'll not hold us back.”

“Shoto…” Yuki sighed and shook her head, but she supposed there was no point now. “Alright. Oh, though, before I forget any longer, this is yours--it fell from your pack when Sumire was picking it up.” Her eyes met Shoto’s as she pulled the fabric out and laid it in the Scholar’s hand. “It looked as though it might be important…?”

Shoto gasped audibly when she saw what it was, and quickly took the fabric, holding it to her chest as she closed her eyes tightly; Emet-Selch blinked as he felt the swirl of emotions the keepsake raised in her, the sudden wave of feeling enough to even bowl over the Ascian, emotionally speaking. Longing...nostalgia...grief...It was almost an echo of when he thought too hard about Persephone.

“...Thank you,” Shoto managed after a moment. “If I lost this, I’d never have forgiven myself...I’ll be more careful from now on.”

Though he wanted to comfort her, the keepsake piqued the Ascian’s curiosity to a point that he almost craned his neck to see the item, like the shoebill he’d disguised himself as. “What is it, exactly? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

Shoto’s smile in reply was sad enough he almost regretted the question. “Ah. It was a memento from a dear friend of mine...One I’ve not forgotten.” She unfurled the fabric almost shyly, letting them see. Though Yuki looked no wiser, Emet-Selch’s eyes went a little wide in recognition, and Sumire actually gasped himself.

“That’s a High House’s symbol,” the Dragoon said. “If I remember...House Fortemps’, isn’t it?”

Shoto nodded, silently.

Yuki blinked and looked to the Dragoon with a light smile. “Well, that’s wonderful, isn’t it? Maybe we can go visit them, soon, and you and Sumire can make introductions.” 

“W-well, hold on, I’d need introducing too! I never knew you were a friend of--,” Sumire began, but then his voice died, along with Yuki’s smile, as they saw the tears in the corners of Shoto’s eyes.

“Heh. ...I...I think he would’ve liked that, but…”

Yuki bit her lip as the realization overtook her. It wasn’t that Shoto hadn’t seen this friend in some time; rather, if they visited, all they’d be visiting was a gravestone.

“...I’m sorry,” she said, laying a gentle hand on Shoto’s shoulder.

“You couldn’t have known,” the Scholar said, shaking her head, but Emet-Selch interrupted with a soft question.

“...What was his name?”

Shoto blinked, surprised at the identity of the questioner. “...Haurchefant. Haurchefant Greystone, of House Fortemps.”

Sumire gave a slightly sad smile of his own. “Ah. Lord Haurchefant of the Silver Fuller...I met him, once, I think. He was...larger than life, I recall.”

Shoto couldn’t help but giggle. “Y-yes, yes. He was...very extravagant, I’d call it, but in a wonderful way.” A memory of the Elezen’s excited cry upon meeting her at Camp Dragonhead crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile broadly. How she missed him; his excitable nature, his infectious smile, the way he called things “splendid!” that was quintessential to him... 

...How he’d gazed at her and her alone, the lilt in his voice when he’d told her how tempting her well-trained body was, resurfaced as well, to the point she had to shake her head violently to clear it.

...Was it her imagination, or had that last thought made Emet-Selch look _jealous_??

“I think,” the Ascian said with gravity and import, his face smoothly melting back to his more neutral, world-weary affect, but his voice surprisingly kind, “that it’s only natural you treasure his memory. Never regret that, hero.” He cleared his throat. “However, if you truly mean to reach Kholusia before nightfall, perhaps we should make it to the ferry sooner, rather than later.”

Shoto, beet red, nodded and all but sprang up. “Y-yes! Let’s keep going. I’m rested, now, and besides, the boat isn’t far.”

...Something about how fast she sprang up almost made the Ascian feel a bit guilty.

...Surely he hadn’t projected any odd feelings about her...feelings…

Whatever. He could make up for it later!

* * *

It was, indeed, not even half a bell more before they found themselves on the creaking planks of the Weed’s plentiful docks, seeking after the ferry to Kholusia; as they made their way over the first bridge, Shoto noticed a grizzled old Hume who looked to be taking inventory rather than hauling in fish, and waved for his attention. “Ah, excuse me!”

The grizzled old fellow blinked and looked up from his writing, brow wrinkling in confusion at the party of travelers before him; his confused expression only served to pronounce a scar across his nose and left cheek, his dark brown eyes searching them.  
  
“Eh? What business do I have with ye, lass?”

Emet-Selch unconsciously bristled beneath his large cowl, though the hood shrouded his face and hid his scowling expression from the Hume; Shoto, for her part, gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry to bother you, but...we’re seeking a ferry to Kholusia, and we’re hoping you could point us in the right direction.”

The old Hume’s look became more affable, and he nodded. “It’ll be Dadfort ye’re wanting, aye; he sails th’ route ‘twixt here and Stilltide, from time to time.”  
  
“Wonderful!” said Shoto brightly. “Can you tell us where to find him?”

“He frequents a li’l tavern on Brick, th’ Drunken Eel. This time o’ day he’ll be out front, probably nursin’ his first pint and still lookin’ for custom. Look fer the big Galdjent with th’ white hair.”

The Scholar bowed in thanks, and the group hurried over the next bridge, departing Weed for Brick and finding, after peering at the signs of several taverns, the Drunken Eel; indeed, under the signpost of the establishment, leaning against a wall, was a massive Galdjent fellow with slate-grey skin and white hair.

Silently, Hades wondered what Shoto planned to do about the gap between Stilltide and Eulmore, a gap that would take them nearly as long as the walk here, and that was if things went well. The Crystarium’s soldiers had done a fine job of keeping most beasts and errant, remaining sin eaters from encroaching on the road, but he knew Kholusia to be much wilder, given its prior ruler’s...proclivities.

“Hello,” Shoto greeted the Galdjent. “We’re looking for Dadfort, are you--”  
  
“Aye, I’m he,” the oversized fellow said, grunting a little as he pushed himself up from the wall. “I suppose your party here is lookin’ for passage?”

“Yes,” said Shoto. “We’re bound for Kholusia. I know you usually only go as far as Stilltide, but we’re hoping to hire you for a trip to Eulmore.”

Ah, so that was what she planned to do about it. Unfortunately, the very name of the city made the Galdjent’s expression darken and his arms crossed.  
  
“Nothing doing, then. You want a different vessel, and like as not a different port. I only sail to Stilltide.”

Shoto’s face fell. “But…”

“We might be at peace,” Dadfort said, “and aye, there’s rumors enough that Vauthry’s dead and gone, and the aristos have repented of their ways. And here’s what I say--it’s all sin eater’s dung.” He spat on the docks to his side. “If ye want passage to Stilltide, then I go there and not a yalm further.”

“Is there really no way we might change your mind?”  
  
It was Hades who said this, his voice almost a purr. Dadfort’s eyes narrowed, but the Ascian went on smoothly.

“You see, the dear young scholar here is quite frail of body and we know that the Eulmorans haven’t quite cleared up the roads. If you could stop at Eulmore’s docks, for just a moment, it would do us a service we’ll well remember. And you’ll be quite fairly compensated,” he added. A coin pouch was suddenly in Dadfort’s hand, and judging by the big man’s expression, it was quite weighty. 

“...I’m not stayin’ a second more than I have to, nor lettin’ ‘em write my ship’s name on no cursed rich man’s roster, y’hear? And I won’t be takin’ ye back. Find other passage to return.”

“Not a problem at all, my good man,” Emet-Selch replied, bowing amiably. Dadfort chewed his lip, but then pocketed the coin pouch and cracked his knuckles, and extended a hand to the Angel of Truth, who shook it firmly.

“Deal’s made, then. Meet me at th’ docks in fifteen. My ship’s th’ _Ondo Princess_ , ye can’t miss her.”

And off he went, leaving the group almost shocked. Shoto looked at him both gratefully and at a loss for words.

“So you’re a businessman, as well as an emperor?” she offered. 

Emet-Selch merely laughed, pushing his hair back, and allowed himself a triumphant grin.

“Oh, there’s much you don’t know about me yet, my dear hero.”


End file.
